


Need You Wild

by sadkittiehours



Series: Werewolf Spencer 'Verse [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Werewolf Spencer Smith, Werewolves, so much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 03:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 104,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30082920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadkittiehours/pseuds/sadkittiehours
Summary: Spencer's a werewolf! A sexy werewolf! Okay, really, Spencer is a newly turned, slightly confused werewolf who can't figure out why Brendon smells so good all the time. Or why Spencer can't seem to stop acting like he is 16-years-old, what with all the blushing and stuttering around Brendon and the constant jerking off. Fear not, though, gentle reader, because it turns out Brendon is totally on board with having a werewolf boyfriend. And with having lots and lots of sex.Can their relationship survive jealousy, possible accidental lycanthropy, and a wolf musical? Will at least two of those problems be solved by lots of sex? Why, yes. Yes they will.
Relationships: Spencer Smith/Brendon Urie
Series: Werewolf Spencer 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213448
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted in 2010
> 
> taken from live journal.[ read the original work here](https://allfourinches.livejournal.com/8902.html) i am posting it here for easier downloading.

As far as cabins doubling as werewolf hideaways go, the one Ryan settles on is pretty badass. Spencer had been understandably nervous that they'd be spending a few months in a lego-sized hole with no heat, but luckily Ryan's idea of a cabin includes a built-in studio and practice space, 40-foot ceilings, and a game room with a TV so big Brendon had slept there the first night. Ryan hadn't thought to get a cabin with four rooms or anything, though, so Spencer sucks it up and shares with Brendon to avoid sleeping in the closet-sized "guest room" with no windows. Spencer has definitely made worse sacrifices in the name of Ryan's whims, though, so he can't really complain.

All in all, it's pretty awesome, even if they haven't exactly gotten around to any actual recording. For the most part, Jon and Ryan just smoke up on the roof while Brendon tries to beat his personal best at Guitar Hero. Spencer spends his time trying to avoid the urge to stick his head out of the giant cabin windows and breathe in deep. It isn't his fault. He's still adjusting to his new crazy werewolf senses (Jon likes to laugh at him and talk about "werewolf puberty") and Ryan brought them to the middle of the woods. There are all these smells, trees and dirt and animals everywhere, and sometimes it makes Spencer's nose twitch. That's probably the hardest thing to adjust to, after his brand new taste buds. Food tastes different and smells so much stronger, and Spencer's eating a lot more of it. Like, a lot. Enough that Brendon has time to make just about every meat joke in existence.

It would be cool having fun new super senses - kind of like being a superhero - if Spencer had anything to do with them. He has night vision, which is pretty badass, except for how he only uses it when he goes into the kitchen at night to get some Pringles and can't be bothered to turn on the light. His hearing is a lot more sensitive too, which is great for when Spencer wants to eavesdrop or beat someone to the bathroom - and, occasionally, text Ryan to tell him how off-key he sounds while he messes around in the studio - but not so great when Spencer wants to sleep in and the birds outside his window won't shut the fuck up. He can also grow a pretty badass beard the week or so before the moon, but Spencer's pretty sure that doesn't actually count as a superpower. It is kind of fun to shave and watch the hair grow back a few seconds later, though.

Spencer doesn't really notice any huge downsides to his cool new werewolf super senses until they've been at the cabin for a week or so. Up until then it's all fun and games - pointing out rabbits when they go hiking, being able to tell Brendon he's using too much paprika in the chili from three rooms away, making fun of Ryan for jerking off in the middle of the day in a communal downstairs bathroom. It had honestly taken him a few minutes to realize that, hey, holy shit, he can smell when Ryan jerked off. Not just Ryan, though, of course not - he can smell Jon from three rooms away and Brendon, well, that's where shit gets kind of awkward. As bad as it is when he can smell Ryan jerking off from down the hall, it's almost unbearable when he's sharing a room with Brendon, living on top of him.

It's like he can't get away from Brendon's scent. He knows when Brendon jerks off, and he knows when Brendon wants to jerk off, and he knows when Brendon has a particularly pleasant dream. Spencer thinks it's starting to drive him a little crazy, because he's starting to like it. Spencer has spent the past few years very pointedly not liking anything about Brendon. It was easier then to just completely ignore his weird crush thing, writing it off as a mistake waiting to happen, but now it's impossible to pretend he's not attracted to Brendon. Things have progressed way too quickly from weird and annoying to really, really hot and annoying, and it's starting to disrupt Spencer's very important schedule of lazing around and doing nothing. Or, as they like to call it in the cabin, "writing an album."

-

Spencer is thoroughly enjoying his afternoon. So far he's slept in until 2pm and eaten Doritos for breakfast, and he's currently sitting on the couch, watching The Office. It's a funny fucking episode, too, but when Brendon wanders over and curls up next to him, Spencer's attention wavers.

Brendon leans into Spencer, a small grin that Spencer can see out of the corner of his eye playing at Brendon's lips. Spencer can't focus on anything but how warm Brendon is where his body touches Spencer's, his legs tucked up underneath him on the couch and his head heavy on Spencer's shoulder.

"Did you just wake up?" Spencer asks, clearing his throat when the words come out hoarse, lower than Spencer expects them to.

"Hmmm, sort of," Brendon replies quietly, leaning closer to Spencer. Spencer can see the way Brendon's toes curl, and as Spencer turns his head back to the television, he catches the familiar scent. It's warm and sweet and a little musky, and Spencer's far too aware that it's the way Brendon smells when he's just jerked off. Spencer leans in, moving his face close to Brendon's neck and breathing in deep before he even thinks about what he's doing.

Spencer goes stiff, hoping Brendon doesn't notice. He knows this is pretty creepy and generally not okay, he does, but he can't seem to stop himself. He presses his face closer to Brendon's neck, feeling the heat from Brendon's flushed skin and breathing in that smell, warm and strangely familiar, going straight to Spencer's gut.

"Hey, what's up?" Brendon asks suddenly, laughing nervously.

Spencer jerks away from Brendon like he's been burned, blushing and praying Brendon doesn't notice.

"What? Nothing," he says, clearing his throat and trying to shift away from Brendon.

"Okay?" Brendon says hesitantly, and when he shifts to lean back in against Spencer's side, Spencer is hit with that smell again, and he can't-- he just can't do this. Spencer jumps up from the couch, wincing when Brendon yelps a little and falls sideways onto the sofa.

"I've seen this one," Spencer says in a rush, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs. He slams the door to their room and waits about ten seconds, listening for the television to go quiet or for footsteps coming up the stairs. He waits until he's sure Brendon's not behind him to collapse on his bed, groaning half in frustration and half in relief as he slides his hand into his sweatpants.

"Fuck everything," Spencer says between clenched teeth, wrapping his fingers around his cock and jerking hard. Being able to smell that Brendon's just jerked off has made Spencer uncomfortable in the past, but it's never been like this. It's never been this intense, turning him on so much his chest goes tight and his cock throbs just thinking about it, about the sweet smell of Brendon's arousal. Spencer pretends he's thinking about how much he hates being a werewolf and not about Brendon on the bed next to him, jerking off, when he comes with whine a few strokes later, wet over his hand.

It's not like Spencer is entirely to blame for all this, anyway, he rationalizes as he pants heavily. It's probably just a result of living with Brendon, sleeping in the same room, being around him all the time. But even in his head it sounds like a weak excuse. It's not like he's never thought about it before, never looked at Brendon and had that sudden feeling of yes, but before all this fucking werewolf business Spencer was much, much better at controlling it.

Spencer groans and reaches for a dirty t-shirt from the floor to wipe off with, and it's not until he goes to wipe himself off that he realizes his cock is sort of refusing to go soft like it normally does after an orgasm. "Um," Spencer says, squeezing at his cock, and where he'd normally be oversensitive by now, it just feels good, like he didn't even come yet. "Fucking seriously?" Spencer groans to himself. Spencer pumps his fist up and down his cock, just to be sure, but there's no doubt about the way the heat is still there, low in his stomach.

"What the fuck," Spencer says to himself, still moving his hand. He thought he was done discovering new side effects of the whole werewolf thing after the first few weeks, so why the fuck did it take so long for this one to show up? The only thing that's changed is-- oh fuck. Fucking Brendon and his fucking scent and Spencer's apparent never ending boner. Spencer keeps stroking over his cock, and maybe it's not so bad, maybe it just takes two orgasms to satisfy him now, like how he's eating three times as much as he used to. Spencer starts to jerk off again in earnest, fast and rough, and by the time he comes over his hand again and still feels the need for more, he realizes that he's fucked. Spencer rubs at his cock idly while wondering if he could get away with locking himself in his room and jerking off all the time like he did when he first started masturbating, but oh, right. He shares this room with Brendon, so probably not. Brendon, who he apparently has both a figurative and literal never-ending boner for. Awesome.

Spencer lies back on his bed with a sigh, his wet hand still wrapped around his dick, which is still completely hard. He's considering going for round three just to see if he can, like, tire out his own dick or something, when he smells the first burger hit the grill. In all the fun and excitement of never-ending hard-ons, he'd totally forgotten Jon was barbecuing tonight, and Spencer can actually feel his nose twitch as he breathes in.

Spencer shuffles to the bathroom with his sweatpants around his knees and washes off properly, scrubbing his hands with soap and wiping down his cock with a cold washcloth in the futile hope that it might discourage his dick. Spencer's life is not that easy, though, so he sighs and tucks his cock under the waistband of his sweatpants, bounding down the stairs and out the back door to the deck, narrowly beating Ryan.

"Uh uh, me first," he says, elbowing Ryan in the ribs.

"Dude. Dude," Jon says. "They're not even done yet."

"Whatever," Spencer says. "Me first." He can't exactly say, "I just had two orgasms in a row and I'm hungry, okay?" but luckily Jon just rolls his eyes and Ryan grumbles and flicks him in the ear, going to collapse down on a lounge chair. There's no sign of Brendon, and Spencer can't tell if he's relieved or disappointed. He sniffs the air, but he mostly just smells the meat and the fire.

Brendon walks outside, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, after Jon yells his name in the general direction of the house once the burgers are done. His hair is sticking up on one side and his sweatpants are hanging low on his hips and Spencer breathes in deep without meaning to, getting hit with a wave of Brendon's scent, stronger than usual and now tinged with sweat from sleep.

"Boring episode?" Spencer asks, and Brendon looks over at Spencer like he didn't realize he was standing there at first.

"Maybe. You tell me." Brendon's voice is rough with sleep and Spencer mumbles something about buns and flees to the kitchen. He doesn't know why he keeps doing this, because Brendon has to realize something's up. Not that Spencer can ever, ever let Brendon know just how up that something is.

Thankfully, Brendon seems to take the hint and doesn't follow Spencer inside. Spencer gets out some plates and the pack of hamburger buns, tossing them on the table as he goes back for ketchup and mustard.

"Food is served," Jon says, walking back into the house from the patio. Brendon and Ryan trail behind him, arguing about something or another. "Spence, yours are the undercooked ones."

"Thanks," Spencer says a little sheepishly as he settles down at the table.

Jon sits across from him, reaching for the buns, and says, "No problem, my furry friend."

"I think you're confusing me with Pete," Spencer mumbles, grabbing two of the rarest looking patties, and Brendon laughs loudly as he sits down next to Spencer. Spencer has to take a moment to tell himself to calm down, to not react to Brendon's scent, but fuck. It's not as easy as Spencer had hoped it would be. He tries to focus on his burger, and not the way Brendon's leg is jiggling under the table, the constant movement making it nearly impossible for Spencer to focus on any other scent. He definitely does not let himself look up when Brendon takes his first bite of burger and moans obnoxiously.

"Jon Walker, marry me," Brendon says. "Marry me and I'll do filthy, sexy things to you just as long as you keep me in burgers."

Spencer, completely against his will, growls. He forces himself to turn it into a loud cough instead, praying no one noticed, and takes a long gulp of beer. He tries his best not to look guilty when he looks up from his plate.

"They're delicious," he says, mostly to Ryan's raised eyebrows. "I got eager."

Spencer makes it through the rest of dinner without any more canine noises, but it's a near thing with Brendon sitting so close and his leg constantly bumping into Spencer's. He's feeling strangely proud of himself until he risks a glance at Brendon and sees him licking ketchup from his fingers, sucking his index finger between his lips. Spencer is about to tackle Brendon, or jump off the roof, or something, when he realizes Ryan's talking.

"So anyway, it's supposed to be really moving and I burned it to DVD and I was thinking we could all watch it."

"Yes!" Spencer almost shouts. "Yes, that is such a good idea, let's watch the movie."

Ryan looks at him quizzically. "I seriously did not think you'd be that into French art house movies, Spence."

Well fuck, Spencer thinks to himself, and Ryan must recognize Spencer's regret face, because he jumps up and starts gathering the plates off the table.

"Nope, you agreed, no take backs," Ryan says.

"It's cool," Brendon says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. "We can throw popcorn at him the entire time. I'll keep score."

Brendon's trying to be nice, Spencer knows, but he's also standing really close, pressed into Spencer's side. Spencer nods kind of dumbly and moves away to grab the rest of the dishes. He rinses the ketchup off his plate and hurries out of the kitchen, where Brendon's making the popcorn, heading into the relative safety of the living room. Jon settles into the weird plaid armchair he called dibs on the second he saw it their first day here, and Ryan sits directly in the middle of the sofa, piling all the pillows up at one end and stretching out.

"Hey," Spencer says, eyeing the love seat nervously. "No, hey, there's no room for Brendon now."

"Yes there is," Ryan says, reaching behind his head for the remotes and managing to knock them off the table instead. "There is plenty of room for both of you on the love seat. It'll be all nice and romantic."

Spencer knows Ryan's joking, because Ryan doesn't know - there is no way he knows - but he can feel himself flush a little. He bends over quickly to pick up the remotes from the floor, straightening back up and dropping them onto Ryan's chest with a little more force than is strictly necessary.

"Okay, oww," Ryan says, rubbing his ribs. "You don't have to be mean."

"Maybe it's a werewolf thing," Jon says from his chair. "Do you have, like, mood swings because of the lunar cycle or something? Are you in a bad mood because the moon is so small right now?"

"I'm in a bad mood because you're all assholes," Spencer mumbles, stomping over to the love seat and pressing himself as far into the corner as possible. Maybe he'll luck out and Brendon will sit on Ryan's legs just to piss him off.

"Popcorn!" Brendon says, walking carefully into the room while trying to balance three bowls. He hands the two smaller bowls off to Jon and Ryan before handing the giant one to Spencer and sprawling across the love seat, his head in Spencer's lap.

"Um," Spencer says, clutching the popcorn bowl to his chest.

"Oh, here," Brendon says, shooting Spencer an odd look when he has to pry the bowl from Spencer's hands. "We can put it right here," Brendon says, setting the bowl down on his stomach.

Spencer wants to point out that Brendon totally misinterpreted that "um," but instead he just stretches his arm out stiffly on the back of the sofa before he does something stupid like touch Brendon's hair or rub at his neck or any of the other embarrassing things his brain is telling him to do.

Brendon shifts, twisting a little in an effort to get comfortable, and when Spencer glances down Brendon's shirt has ridden up, exposing his stomach. Something dark and strong and sudden shoots through Spencer's belly, and just like that he's completely hard again, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in deep. He's reaching out, his hand going for Brendon's stomach, and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek hard to snap himself out of it and pretend he was reaching for the popcorn.

Spencer's mouth is watering, the blood pounding in his ears. His entire body feels sprung up tight like it's waiting for something, waiting to pounce, and seriously, what the fuck. Being a werewolf is getting more and more fucked up by the day.

Brendon tilts his head back to look at Spencer and asks, "Hey, are you okay?"

Spencer swallows his mouthful of popcorn and nods, raising his voice when he says, "If we could just go ahead and start the terrible movie, though, that would be awesome."

"You're so judgmental," Ryan says, his forehead all scrunched up as he pokes repeatedly at one button on the remote. "Jon," he finally says, "the big button isn't working."

"That's because you're just turning the volume on and off," Jon says. "Now will you give that here so we can actually watch the movie at some point in the next hour?"

"Fine," Ryan says, tossing the remote to Jon. "But I'm keeping the DVD player remote."

"That one's for the old ass VCR," Brendon adds helpfully.

Spencer snorts out a laugh, grateful for the distraction. He's calmed down a little, enough that he isn't about to freak out and ravish Brendon. Or at least enough that no one's going to notice that he wants to.

He doesn't have to worry about Jon noticing, anyway, since Jon's eyes start slipping shut about ten minutes into the movie. It's every bit as pretentious and foreign as Spencer would expect from Ryan's taste in film, which would be great for making fun of if Ryan didn't actually seem earnestly into the movie. Spencer and Brendon still take a shot at throwing popcorn down the front of Ryan's v-neck, though. Ryan ignores them and eats the popcorn they throw at him without looking away from the television.

The movie itself isn't as interesting as the one about the threesome Ryan made them watch that one time. Spencer tries to pay attention, though, forcing all thoughts of Brendon to the back of his mind.

Except-- Brendon's just so warm. It's weird, because Spencer's been running a little hotter lately himself, but he can feel the warmth all up his legs where Brendon's lying down, and Spencer's a little ashamed at how much just being close to Brendon is affecting him. Even when he tries to shift, Brendon just shifts with him. Brendon sets the bowl of popcorn on the floor, since it's mostly kernels now anyway, and turns on his side, wrapping one of his hands around Spencer's knee. Spencer's chest goes tight and he tries to stay as still as possible, trying to ignore the way he can feel Brendon's pulse just from the touch of his hand.

"This movie sucks," Spencer says, trying very hard to pretend his voice didn't just crack on the word "sucks." Ryan shushes Spencer and pulls the pillow in his lap closer to his chest, staring intently at the screen.

Spencer sighs and trades a quick grin with Brendon (his fingers maybe twitch a little, but Spencer is totally not going to pet Brendon's hair, nope) before turning his attention back to the TV.

And then - and Spencer isn't sure why he doesn't see it coming, since they're having a tender moment in the freaking art studio - the two main characters start kissing, grabbing at each other in desperation. Spencer wants to make a crack at the scene, but the female lead has short, dark hair and curvy hips and. Oh god. Spencer can feel the heat creep up into his face when he realizes he's totally, totally projecting Brendon onto her. She wraps her legs around the guy's waist and then there are a lot of quick, sharp cuts between their faces and their legs as they fuck, and Spencer's getting more turned on by it than he usually would, even though he's trying desperately not to think about Brendon. Spencer focuses on the screen, on the way the girl keeps squeezing her legs tighter and tighter around the guy's waist. Spencer's pretty sure he could hold Brendon up like that with no trouble at all, just hold him up and hold him steady as he fucked him, and son of a bitch. Spencer hates himself.

Spencer doesn't know why he's surprised when he breathes in and catches the scent of arousal, but he still is. It's not just Brendon, either - he can smell Ryan, distantly, though in a way, Spencer has been dealing with Ryan and his boners since they were teenagers, so it doesn't really faze him.

But god, Brendon. The smell gets stronger as the girl's moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping together painfully realistic. It's sort of like watching actual porn, which they've only done a few times on the bus when they were really, really high.

Brendon's arousal just keeps growing, thick and sweet in the air, almost too much for Spencer to take. The heat twists in his gut, his fingers twitching and his instincts telling him to "take, take, take." Spencer pushes that down, though. He doesn't look down at Brendon, doesn't look to the television, doesn't do anything except wait for this to be over. Because - and he kind of hates himself for admitting it - it's getting harder and harder to not hold Brendon down and fuck him when Brendon's turned on like this.

Spencer is just about to snap and do something really, really stupid when the scene cuts to the couple in bed, lounging attractively while smoking, and Brendon pipes up with, "No one really does that, right? I mean, I've never smoked after sex. That's totally one of those movie things, like how no one ever says goodbye before hanging up." He trails off with a nervous laugh, drumming his fingers on the inside of Spencer's knee, and Spencer would laugh if he wasn't still so incredibly turned on.

"Brendon," Ryan says with a groan. "You are ruining this movie."

Spencer can tell Brendon's about to argue, but before he can manage to piss Ryan off, Jon jerks awake with a grunt, looking around blearily.

"Wait," he says, looking at the screen. "Wait, what happened? Oh fuck, did I just miss a sex scene?"

Spencer laughs at Ryan's outraged face, momentarily distracted from Brendon's scent as Jon walks past them, heading up the stairs to his room and mumbling sleepily.

It's a short-lived reprieve, though, because Brendon chooses that moment to push himself up off of Spencer's lap and stretch, arching his back until it pops and then bending over his knees, curving his back and baring the back of his neck. Spencer lets out a low, dark noise, digging his hands into the couch cushions so hard he's a little afraid he's going to rip them, trying desperately to keep from giving in to the hot, stabbing pangs of want shooting through his stomach. Brendon straightens up and looks at Spencer, confused.

"Spence?" he asks, "You okay?"

"Did you just growl?" Ryan asks, his voice more than a little amused.

"No," Spencer says. "Yes. No. I yawned! Sometimes that happens. Werewolf!" It's possible he's a little hysterical. "Anyway, I'm tired, I'm going to bed, enjoy the movie, don't yell at each other loudly enough to wake me up."

Spencer hauls himself off the couch hurriedly, and he seriously, desperately hopes that Brendon does not decide to follow him. If Spencer doesn't get a chance to jerk off he's pretty sure he might die, or at the very least hump Brendon's leg, and neither of those are very appealing options at the moment.

So, naturally, he makes it about halfway up the stairs when he hears Brendon tell Ryan not to rewind to the sex scene and jerk off because the living room is a shared space. Spencer groans a little to himself, pressing his hand to the front of his sweatpants sadly. Brendon's caught up to him by the time Spencer reaches the door to their room, and he flattens himself against Spencer's back, pressing his nose between Spencer's shoulder blades and mumbling something about how tired he is.

Brendon is obviously trying to kill him.

Spencer fumbles with the doorknob stupidly and practically runs into the room, straight into the bathroom. When he turns to shut the door he just catches a glance of Brendon still standing in the doorway, looking sleepy and rumpled and more than a little confused. He doesn't smell quite as turned on now, not as bad as before, but it's still there. Spencer can smell it even after he's shut the bathroom door, just on the edge of his senses, just enough to make sure his cock keeps throbbing insistently.

Spencer considers taking a shower but he's down to his last clean pair of boxers and sleeping naked is not going to help this situation at all. He turns on the faucet hopefully, but it's not loud enough and Brendon is right outside the door, just standing there, smelling amazing and being stupidly hot and ruining Spencer's life. Spencer groans in frustration and reaches for his toothbrush, reaching out and opening the door just so he's not tempted to do something stupid.

Which-- mistake. Brendon's standing directly in Spencer's line of sight, stripped down to his briefs, bent over and rummaging through a drawer. His back is long and curved and his head is bowed and his ass is slightly raised, and Spencer is a little scared he's going to come in his pants without so much as touching himself, just from the way it makes him want. He turns and spits into the sink, grabbing onto the edge and holding on as tight as he can so he doesn't do something fucking stupid like go throw Brendon on the floor and rub against him until he comes.

Which is a nice thought, but also a completely insane one, and Spencer absolutely and undeniably hates his entire fucking life.

"Oh, hey," Brendon says, and Spencer can see him from the corner of his eye as Brendon stands up and walks toward the open bathroom door. "I guess this is a good time to tell you I've been using your toothpaste, right?" Brendon says as he walks into the bathroom. "I forgot to pack mine, and yours is all cinnamon-y. It's delicious."

The bathroom isn't exactly huge, but it's not tiny either, and there's absolutely no reason Brendon has to press himself against Spencer's back again, reaching around his body to grab his own toothbrush and Spencer's toothpaste. Spencer swallows hard and narrowly avoids choking on a mouthful of toothpaste, because Brendon is so warm, his bare skin pressing against Spencer's back through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Brendon's arm is practically wrapped around Spencer's waist, dangerously low, and if Spencer just tilted his hips up, just a little, and Brendon slid his hand down, and fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Yeah," Spencer says after he spits into the sink. "Yeah, have at it, I'm going to bed, and I'm going to bed now and I'm very tired so don't try to talk to me." Spencer rinses off his toothbrush and sets it in the holder, squirming his way out from between Brendon and the sink. It takes a considerable amount of self control not to turn around and look at Brendon as he walks across the room and shucks off his sweatpants, climbing under his comforter with his back to the bathroom door.

"Right," Brendon says after a second. "I'll get the light as soon as I'm done then, Spence." He sounds more worried than annoyed, and Spencer feels vaguely guilty, but still mostly turned the fuck on and frustrated as hell, and he wills himself to close his eyes and think about absolutely nothing. He pulls the comforter up over his head and presses his nose into the fabric, trying to focus on the slightly musty smell of it, not the way he can still smell Brendon, slightly sweaty and sleepy and still just a little turned on. Spencer drifts off to sleep like that, burrowed into the covers and listening to the noise of the faucet, and just beneath that, the steady, oddly comforting rhythm of Brendon's breathing.

-

Spencer wakes up with a start, his heart pounding. He's panting and confused - he can still smell Brendon all around him, can still feel Brendon tight around his cock, Brendon's back damp with sweat where Spencer's bent over him, fucking him. Spencer groans out loud, rough and broken, his hips jerking up as he comes. Which is when he opens his eyes and realizes, oh yeah, none of that is actually happening.

Spencer whines pathetically, his hips still twitching a little. He's not proud of it, but he's out of breath and his boxers are sticky and he just had a fucking wet dream. He wasn't even touching his cock and he came harder than he has in a long, long time. And just to make the whole thing even more embarrassing, he's still fucking hard.

Spencer takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and pushing his hair away from his face, trying to clear his mind of the images still racing through it - of Brendon on his knees, Spencer pressing in close, his nose pressing into the sweaty hair at the nape of Brendon's neck. His cock twitches and Spencer groans again, letting his head fall heavily to his pillow.

"Spencer?" Brendon says suddenly, his voice rough with sleep. Spencer can see him in the dark of the room, sitting up in bed and rubbing at his eyes. Stupid night vision. It would be so much easier to pretend that was all part of the dream. Spencer swallows heavily, his brain a little fuzzy and his body still warm and tingly from his orgasm.

"Spence, are you okay?" Brendon asks again, his sheets ruffling as he moves to get out of bed, and panic floods Spencer's chest. He can't let Brendon come over here. He knows Brendon, knows he won't think twice about climbing into bed with him, and Spencer-- he can't. He can't let Brendon find out, fuck, it's embarrassing enough as is. Spencer sits up quickly and says, "No!" in a loud voice, startling both of them.

There's a pause, so quiet that Spencer can hear the bugs outside of their window.

"Spencer, are you--"

"Please, Brendon, just. Go back to bed. I'm fine." Spencer hates how short he sounds, how rough his voice is, but he just woke up mid-orgasm from a dream where he was fucking Brendon, and Brendon finding out is the last thing he needs right now.

"Are you sure?" Brendon asks after a few more moments of silence, and Spencer takes a moment to hate his stupid werewolf senses again because he can see Brendon in the dark, sitting at the edge of his bed, his hair wild and eyes heavy, and Spencer's chest goes tight.

"Yes. Yes, I mean it. Good night, Brendon."

"Right," Brendon says softly, turning to crawl back into bed. "'Night, Spence."

Brendon rolls over to presumably go back to sleep, his breath evening out again, and Spencer sighs and collapses back onto the pillows, resolutely keeping his back turned to Brendon until he drifts back off to sleep.

-

Spencer manages to out-sleep Brendon, and he wakes up feeling thoroughly disgusting, his boxers stuck to his skin. He heads to the bathroom and peels them off with a grimace, making a mental note to do some fucking laundry. He jerks off in the shower - twice, in fact - but he still feels restless and kind of caged in, like he wants to stalk around and growl at something.

It's fucked up, is the thing - how much Brendon is getting inside of his head. It's not that Spencer had never thought about it before, never given idle consideration to what Brendon would be like in bed, how he would kiss, how it would feel. But Spencer's never, never let it go any further than that. Idle curiosity is fine, but it's also very different from the shit that's been going on in his head, from how crazy Brendon's smell makes him, from how badly he wants to push Brendon down and just take.

And it's an even worse idea now. Spencer still doesn't trust himself not to hurt someone when he's mad, and the way he's feeling about Brendon has him in even less control than usual. He keeps finding himself leaning in, swaying toward Brendon without meaning to, staring at Brendon while he thinks about how easily he could hold Brendon down, pin him and just smell him, taste him. Spencer can barely control himself now, and the thought of what he might do if something were to actually happen is terrifying. A dark part of Spencer also finds it a little thrilling, but he mostly tells that part to shut the fuck up before he totally loses his mind.

Spencer towels off and gives brief thought to going running, or at least getting the fuck out of the house, but in the end he settles on an old standby and heads down to the practice space beside the studio. Drumming has always helped before when he felt like this, restless and pent up, so he figures he might as well give it a shot. It doesn't matter what he plays, or for how long, but something about having to focus on rhythms instead of what's going on in his stupid brain seems to help. The cabin's practice space is a big, soundproofed room all the way to the back of the cabin, and Spencer doesn't realize someone's already in there until he opens the door.

He smells Brendon before he sees him. The smell is thick, hot and overwhelming, sweat and arousal and frustration. Something burns low in Spencer's stomach, something that Spencer has to close his eyes against because it's not okay, the thoughts that flood his head. Spencer's still trying to get used to this attraction, and how it came out of fucking nowhere, but he still feels guilty when he starts to get hard.

Brendon's shirtless, unsurprisingly, since it gets pretty hot in the practice space. His skin is pale and gleaming with sweat, muscles shifting as he pounds at Spencer's drums.

"Hey," Spencer says, not too loud, but Brendon looks up, startled. He goes still, abruptly ending the beat he had going, his face flushed when he looks at Spencer and says, "Sorry. I just..."

Brendon doesn't finish, and Spencer wants to ask, You just what? And why are you so fucking turned on? Instead, Spencer just shrugs and says, "It's okay."

Brendon stands up and starts to walk toward Spencer, and Spencer just stops himself from taking a step back, his nostrils flaring. Sweat drips down over Brendon's neck, his chest just as flushed as the rest of his skin, shining and slick, and Spencer really, really can't stop himself from imagining if Brendon tastes as good as he smells. He should be grossed out - it's Brendon's sweat, for fuck's sake - but it doesn't stop the way his cock jerks in his pants, or the way something deep inside Spencer just wants.

Brendon stops a few feet in front of Spencer, and Spencer realizes his sense of smell isn't even necessary when he glances down at the bulge straining at the front of Brendon's jeans. Fuck, no wonder the smell is so strong - Brendon's not even trying to hide it.

"Sorry about bugging you last night. I forgot how hard this has to be for you," Brendon says softly, looking up at Spencer with wide and sincere eyes.

Spencer clenches his hands into fists at his sides and hopes Brendon doesn't notice when he takes a deep breath, shuddering a little at the thick taste of arousal in the warm air of the room. "Hey, no, it's. I wasn't angry or anything," Spencer says. That's only sort of a lie. Spencer was angry with himself, but Brendon can't help that Spencer suddenly can't be around him without wanting to fuck him. "It was just hard to sleep. I could hear Ryan's stupid movie," Spencer adds, lying through his teeth.

Brendon digs his teeth nervously into his lip and Spencer thinks that maybe Brendon really is trying to kill him. He would openly welcome death at this point, though, already too far gone to pretend he doesn't want Brendon in every way he shouldn't.

"So you can... you can hear from that far away?"

"I heard him talking to himself about how he should look into buying a beret, so yeah," Spencer says, smiling a little, but Brendon's face is suddenly scrunched up like he's upset. Spencer is lost. What does his hearing have to do with anything, anyway? "What?"

"So you can hear everything?"

"Well, yeah, within reason," Spencer says. "Brendon, seriously, what?"

Brendon freezes. "You're not pissed?"

"Pissed about what?" Spencer tries to keep his voice even, because Brendon's acting weirdly skittish.

"That I said-- when I was jerking off, after I jerked off you started acting weird, so I thought..." Brendon pauses. "Dude, wait. You did hear that, right?"

Spencer's mind is racing, trying to put together what Brendon's apologizing for. "What are you talking about? I could smell you."

Brendon blinks. "That's. You can smell sounds?"

Spencer laughs suddenly at the absurdity of the statement, and Brendon does too, breaking the tension for a moment. "No, I could tell you jerked off, because. I could smell it," Spencer finishes in a small voice, and where Brendon's embarrassment was just wearing off, his face now burns bright red.

"Oh my god." Brendon shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning back. "And right now...?"

"Well. Yeah." Spencer's blushing too, because he is the creepiest werewolf ever, but Brendon doesn't look creeped out. Just really, really red. And the scent of his arousal hasn't lessened any, but Spencer has no idea what that means.

"Well, fuck." Brendon laughs again, the sound short, and Spencer shrugs.

"Sorry. I know it's--I'm really, really sorry."

"No, hey, you can't help it, right? It's my fault. I should probably-- I mean, what do I even smell like?"

It's Spencer's turn to freeze, and his eyes go wide when he realizes that Brendon's serious. "Really?" he asks nervously, mentally wincing when Brendon nods. "Just sort of... like sweat, sort of salty? And sweet, almost tangy, and fuck, this is hard to explain," Spencer stammers, his face burning.

Brendon smiles, shaking his head. "It's okay, I was just wondering. I'll just." Brendon nods toward the door and Spencer steps aside to let Brendon leave.

When Brendon walks past him on his way to the door, Spencer's hit with his scent, thick and strong and amazing, and Spencer feels his knees actually buckle a little with how badly he wants to go after Brendon, go after him and pin him up against the practice room wall and drop to his knees.

He is so fucked.

-

It's surprisingly easy to avoid Brendon, given that they're sleeping in the same room. Spencer mostly sticks to hanging out with Jon while Ryan and Brendon fool around in the studio, arguing over lyrics and chord progressions. That first night Spencer falls asleep on the floor of the living room with Jon after they smoke up and play Halo, and the next night Brendon stays in the practice space until almost 5am. Spencer stays as still as humanly possible when Brendon comes into their room and falls into bed.

Spencer doesn't get up until well after noon, and once he's stumbled down the stairs and eaten three Pop-Tarts, they all pile into the studio so they can start laying down tracks for the song Ryan has mostly written. Spencer spends most of his time wincing at the lyrics and trying to convince Ryan that he can't actually play the drum part Ryan wants unless he gets two more arms and a rotating kit, and it's not until they all finally give up and trudge into the kitchen to find food that Spencer notices it.

There's been something tugging at his mind all day, some smell that's almost familiar but he can't quite identify. Now that his head is relatively clear for the moment and he's not focused on anything, he takes a deep breath in and realizes exactly what it is he's smelling. Brendon is, for lack of a better term, really fucking horny, but the way he smells now is just different enough to throw Spencer off. Spencer struggles to put a name to it, why it smells so different, and it isn't until Brendon slams his hand in the cabinet and curses that he realizes what's going on. Brendon's not just horny, he's frustrated. It doesn't make sense to Spencer, why Brendon wouldn't just go jerk off if he's this turned on.

That night Spencer stays up as late as he can, even going as far as to watch old Donna Reed Show reruns with Ryan on Nick at Nite until four in the morning, before eventually trudging up the stairs to his room. Brendon is asleep when Spencer cracks open the door, but before he can be too grateful, the smell hits him, thick and musky and everywhere, and Spencer's eyes immediately sharpen, picking out Brendon's figure in the dark. Brendon's hands are tightened in the sheets and his hips are jerking forward shakily in his sleep, and Spencer shuts the door as quietly as he can before hurrying back down the stairs and locking himself in the downstairs bathroom. He bites down hard on the side of his hand as he jerks off, trying to keep quiet just in case Ryan can hear him from the game room.

-

Spencer ends up sleeping on the sofa again and waking up sore and cramped. He's in a pretty shitty mood to begin with, and it only gets worse when they lock themselves in the practice space and Brendon is all Spencer can smell, thick and sharp. Brendon seems to be in an even shittier mood, snapping at Ryan over every suggestion and kicking angrily at his mic stand when he blows a verse. It helps take the focus off of Spencer's bad mood, but it also makes Brendon's arousal and frustration smell even stronger, sharper somehow in a way that goes straight to Spencer's cock. It makes him want to reach out and grab Brendon, push him down onto the floor and hold him there until he gives in, goes still, and stops being so frantic and full of anger and frustration.

"Brendon, what the fuck is your problem?" Ryan asks after the third time Brendon fumbles a line and tosses his notes to the ground.

"My problem is your stupid ass lyrics, so either you try pronouncing some of this shit on rhythm on the first go or stop writing such pretentious fucking bullshit," Brendon snaps, knocking his mic stand over and stomping out of the practice space.

Ryan whirls on Spencer, his mouth drawn up in a tight line. "What the fuck is up with him, seriously?" Ryan asks, starting to pace. "He was all for these lyrics a few days ago. He helped me write some of them, for fuck's sake."

"Maybe we just all need a break," Jon says evenly, setting his bass down. "We can order a pizza, watch something with explosions, and get really, really high. Everyone will feel awesome, I promise."

Ryan sets his guitar down on the rack with a shrug, already arguing about pizza toppings as he follows Jon out of the practice space, and Spencer takes a deep breath before standing to follow them out, trying to ignore the faint smell of Brendon that's still in the air.

They end up getting pizza with three kinds of meat on it per Spencer's request. Spencer carries the boxes into the kitchen and ignores Ryan when he calls Spencer a "growing boy" and pats his arm patronizingly.

"Don't worry, he's just jealous that all this food is going straight to your muscles," Brendon says with a grin, loading up three pieces of pizza onto a plate. "How does that work, anyway?"

"Not sure, there aren't a lot of books on werewolf diets," Spencer says, but then he makes sure to smile back at Brendon so Brendon doesn't think he's being a jerk. The sharp tang of frustration has mostly dissipated but Spencer can still smell arousal, just over the scent of pizza, and Spencer grabs some pizza and steals away to the living room before Brendon can start talking again.

Ryan hasn't taken up the whole couch with his gangly legs yet, but Spencer opts for the love seat anyway. Ryan has evil, pepperoni-stealing tendencies.

"What are we watching?"

"The Fast and the Furious," Jon says, skipping through all the title screens. "I'm not sure which one, but I'm very confident there will be explosions. Fast, furious explosions."

Spencer grins and takes a bite of pizza. Brendon finally joins them, a Red Bull in one hand and pizza in the other, and there's a painfully awkward moment when he lingers in the doorway and eyes the two empty spots, next to Ryan and next to Spencer.

Brendon finally walks past Ryan and settles down on the couch next to Spencer, on the opposite end. Spencer makes the mistake of breathing in and catches Brendon's scent, as strong as it's ever been, and he quickly takes another bite of pizza to distract himself. He manages to get through an hour of the movie and an entire pizza before it starts to get to him.

Brendon is still pressed into the opposite side of the love seat, but he keeps fidgeting, restless and keyed up, and every time he moves Spencer can smell him, more and more strongly. He's turned on and frustrated and restless, and Spencer doesn't realize just how thoroughly he's zoned out until a particularly loud explosion snaps him from his thoughts of pressing Brendon down into the cushions and trapping him there between Spencer's knees until he stops twitching.

Spencer shakes his head and flushes when he realizes Brendon's looking at him. He has no idea how long Brendon's been watching him, how long he's been sitting there watching Spencer stare at Brendon like a giant creep. Brendon tilts his head a little and then shifts forward, sliding closer to Spencer on the sofa, and it's too much. Brendon's movement makes the smell even stronger, and Brendon is right there - Spencer could reach out and grab him, hold him down - and Spencer jumps up without thinking about it, reaching down to gather the two pizza boxes and abandoned plates off the floor.

"What," Ryan says when Spencer moves to grab his plate, moving over to get Jon's next. "What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning up. Maybe you've heard of it before?"

"Fuck off, there's no point cleaning if it's just us," Ryan mumbles, and Spencer rolls his eyes.

"And this is why your electricity and water keep getting shut off even though you have plenty of money to pay them."

"Hey, can you get me another piece?" Jon asks, oblivious, and Spencer throws a crumpled-up napkin at Ryan's head and goes back into the kitchen.

Spencer drops the plates in the sink and pizza boxes on the counter, leaning over the sink and taking a deep breath. The window is open and it smells like outside, a thousand scents that drove Spencer crazy before but are now just kind of calming.

Spencer takes another deep breath, trying to clear the thoughts racing through his brain about Brendon. If Spencer wasn't so fixated on Brendon's damn scent, and if Brendon didn't insist on being so close to Spencer all the time--

"Are you really going to do dishes? I didn't even know we had dish soap here."

Fuck, maybe Brendon really is trying to kill him.

"I'm not actually--" Spencer pauses, realizing it's probably not a good idea to tell Brendon that he had to get out of there before he held Brendon down and fucked him. That would definitely be creepy. "I fucking hate that movie."

Brendon laughs, loud and sudden, and a smile tugs at the corner of Spencer's mouth too. It's not even funny. The sudden sexual attraction Spencer can handle, but this whole crush business is just not on.

"Hey. Hey, about earlier, Spence." Spencer looks up and Brendon's staring at him with big eyes, all the laughter suddenly gone. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for being such a dick. I don't know what's wrong with me lately."

Brendon just looks so sad and apologetic, like he fucking went to school to learn how to be that good at it. Spencer can't stand it, and it's not like it's Brendon's fault that Spencer's fucked up with this werewolf thing. He almost says as much, but he settles for stepping forward, lifting his arms to hug Brendon like he's used to doing.

As soon as Spencer gets close enough, though, he smells it again - the arousal is warm and thick in the air, and it's all Spencer can taste when he breathes in. Brendon's reaching for Spencer's neck when Spencer suddenly steps back, his heart pounding when he thinks about putting his arms around Brendon like this.

"Hey, what? C'mon, dude," Brendon says, stepping forward again, and Spencer swallows, Brendon's scent making his cock stir and the thoughts starting up in his brain again, the dark, insistent impulses that Spencer has to hold back.

"Nothing, just--" Spencer tries, swallowing hard.

"Come on, if ever there was a time for hugs, this is it. Today's been shit," Brendon says, darting forward and wrapping his arms around Spencer's waist, burying his face in the crook of Spencer's neck. Brendon's pressed tightly against his body, his breath stirring against Spencer's skin, the nape of his neck right under Spencer's nose. Spencer starts to shake a little, his entire body telling him to grab onto Brendon and keep him there, hold Brendon tight against his body and breathe him in. Spencer clenches his hands into fists at his side, trying to keep himself from doing something stupid.

Spencer shifts, trying to push Brendon back without touching him, but Brendon just squeezes harder, shifting his body closer to Spencer's. "Dude, you're hug-blocking me hardcore right now," Brendon says against Spencer's neck. He's so close that his lips brush Spencer's skin when he speaks, and Spencer can't do this, he can't.

Brendon is much too close, too warm and solid, and the way he smells. Spencer's makes himself unclench his fists slowly, carefully, to bring his hands up to Brendon's shoulders. He means to push at Brendon's shoulders, push him back, but Brendon shifts even closer when Spencer touches him, his hips tilting until they press up against Spencer's, and Brendon is hard, just hard enough for Spencer to feel.

Spencer growls low in his throat, his mind going hazy before focusing in on Brendon's scent, and he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of Brendon's neck, breathing in deep. Brendon's breath hitches and he moves in closer, making Spencer's nose slide through his hair, and Spencer growls again and squeezes down on Brendon's shoulder's, wanting him to stay still, still and pliant so Spencer can take in his scent. Brendon gasps out a little and Spencer's brain immediately recognizes the sound as discomfort. His entire stomach goes sick and tight when he realizes just how tightly he's gripping Brendon's shoulders, and he lets go immediately, jerking back from Brendon's arms so roughly that Brendon stumbles back, his back hitting the edge of the counter with an audible thunk.

Brendon's eyes go wide, and Spencer can feel the blood drain from his face all at once. He wants to reach out for Brendon, make sure he's okay, but that's what got him here in the first place. Spencer opens his mouth to say something, say sorry, say anything, but all that comes out is a low noise that sounds almost like a wail. Brendon swallows, eyes are still big and round, and Spencer can still smell him, thick and turned on and frustrated, and Spencer can't even begin to deal with that right now. He just can't, so he turns on heel and rushes up the steps before Brendon can say anything.

Spencer was headed for their room, but as soon as he opens the door he can smell Brendon, his sweat and his deodorant and his shampoo, and it's all too much, so he pulls the door shut and heads for the window that leads up to the roof, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as he's out in the fresh air.

Spencer drops his head between his knees and breathes in deep. He can smell the forest and the soil and the deer and the rabbits, out now that the sun is going down, but most importantly he can't smell Brendon. It's a relief until Spencer lets himself think about why, about the fact that he just hurt Brendon and then ran away. He could have-- fuck, he could have seriously hurt Brendon. Spencer can snap his drumsticks in half with no effort at all, he can lift Jon above his head with one hand, he pulls doorknobs off if he's not careful, and he just let himself grab at Brendon like that, grab down and squeeze, and it was all over a hug.

His attraction to Brendon is dangerous enough on its own for a whole host of reasons that don't have anything to do with being a werewolf, but now, now it's even worse. Spencer's had more dark thoughts about Brendon in the past few weeks than he's had in his life about anyone else, ever. The way Spencer's been so fixated on Brendon is bad enough, but hurting Brendon - even on accident - because he couldn't control his himself was scary. Scary, and sickening, and it's really fucking terrifying that he can't trust himself around Brendon anymore. Spencer takes a shaky breath and tries to calm down, tries to focus on the more immediate problem of going back in the house and facing Brendon, sleeping in the same room with him. He's very resolutely not letting himself think about what will happen if he can't, what will happen to the band, when Jon hauls himself onto the roof with a grunt.

"So," he says, pulling out a joint and a lighter. "Brendon's not talking but you're usually an easy mark. What the fuck is up?"

Spencer doesn't answer, just snatches the joint from Jon and takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs until he feels a little lightheaded before exhaling.

"Well, damn," Jon says, taking the joint back from Spencer. "I didn't know it was that bad."

Spencer rolls his eyes and tilts his head onto Jon's shoulder, just sitting there for a few minutes while Jon smokes. It's comforting, being close to someone without going absolutely insane. Jon holds the joint up to Spencer's mouth for the last drag and then grinds it out on the roof tiles before flicking the roach off the roof.

"That's wasteful," Spencer says. "And somewhere out there an anthropomorphic bear going absolutely apeshit."

Jon laughs, warm and familiar, and Spencer feels stupidly close to crying. He doesn't want to lose this, doesn't want to lose his band because he can't fucking control himself. "I fucked up," he says quietly.

"Can't be that bad," Jon says after a moment. "There was no blood, and you didn't eat Brendon or anything."

Spencer laughs hoarsely, trying not to let himself even consider that he could do far, far worse. He swallows around the lump in his throat and sits up, moving away from Jon and dropping his head back down to his knees.

"Spence," Jon says, rubbing at his shoulders. "It's not like you know how to deal with this any better than we do, okay? We get that, we all get that. Ryan even gave me and Brendon a speech before we came up here that if we were weird around you he'd kick us out of the band."

Spencer snorts, loud and sudden, because that is absolutely something Ryan would do, even though it's not like he wasn't being weird around Spencer. It's not something he'd follow through on, but it's something he'd do, and Spencer feels a little better, just from realizing it's true.

"Whatever happened, it's cool," Jon says, patting Spencer on the back before climbing to his knees and shuffling over to the window. "You guys will work it out, and if you can't, you can let Ryan mediate. He loves that shit."

Spencer laughs, smiling at Jon's back as he tumbles back through the window. They've seriously got to come up with a better system for getting on and off of the roof. Spencer thinks idly about building some kind of rail, but he's pretty sure that would void their security deposit on the cabin. Not to mention that he's totally procrastinating going back inside, hoping against hope that Brendon will already be in bed and he can get away with sleeping on the couch.

It's getting cold, though - cold enough that Spencer is actually starting to feel it despite how hot he runs now. Spencer gets to his knees with a sigh, heading over to the window and managing to drop back inside slightly more gracefully than Jon. He stills for a minute once he closes the window, listening, and breathes a sigh of relief when he can hear Brendon's even, deep breathing from their room down the hall.

Brendon's asleep, which means Spencer is off the hook for a few more hours. Spencer starts down for the stairs, heading for the couch, and it's not until he rounds the corner that he realizes he didn't remember to check if everyone was already in bed.

"Spence?" Ryan asks without turning around, his back to Spencer, and Spencer freezes where he's standing in the living room. "Why aren't you upstairs?"

"How did you know it was me, creep?" Spencer shoots back, walking toward the couch to sit down next to Ryan. He has to push at Ryan's legs so Ryan will make room for him, but Ryan doesn't protest much.

"Right, you can smell when there's a bunny in the backyard and I'm the creep?"

"Okay," Spencer grumbles, leaning back into the couch. "Point taken."

"So," Ryan says, sitting up a little to look at Spencer. "You fucked up."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Spencer groans. Ryan just stares, and it's a little unnerving. Spencer knows Ryan's doing on purpose, of course, since he's been doing it since they were in grade school.

"No," Spencer says decisively, and he wants to kick Ryan when Ryan just raises his eyebrows. "No, I don't want to talk about it. If-- if it becomes, like, a thing, I'll talk to you. But right now I just want to fucking pass out."

"I know," Ryan says, and there's something about the way he says it and he means it that makes Spencer randomly grateful to be in a band with his best friend. Spencer's throat gets a little tight and he coughs, because seriously, what is with him and the emotional overload lately? Maybe Jon's right and it really is werewolf puberty.

"So I take it you're sleeping down here?"

Spencer nods. He trusts Ryan not to push the issue any further.

"Okay, then. Get over here." Ryan leans back into the couch and pats his lap, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Spencer.

"Oh god, you're an asshole," Spencer says, laughing a little as he lies down with his head resting in Ryan's lap. Ryan's fingers brush through Spencer's hair, petting him and scritching idly at his scalp. Spencer closes his eyes and starts to drift off to sleep, trying his best not to think about anything but the warm, familiar way Ryan smells.


	2. Chapter Two

Spencer wakes up to the smell of coffee and burnt toast, and he stretches his arms up until his back cracks, stiff from the weird angle he slept on the couch. At some point Ryan left him, probably to go sleep in his own bed, but Spencer doesn't remember much. Spencer listens to the birds outside and then there's the sound of something dropping on the kitchen floor, and Ryan's groggy "aw, fuck" follows right after. Spencer rolls his eyes, but his mouth is quirked up in a smile.

"You slept down here?" Brendon asks softly, and Spencer startles and twists where he's lying on the couch to face Brendon. Brendon's hair is sticking out a little on one side and he's wearing boxer shorts with pirate flags on them, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Spencer absolutely does not stare at the way Brendon's boner is pressing against the font of his boxers, just watches Brendon's throat bob when he swallows instead. Brendon's looking at him, his eyes groggy but focused in on Spencer's face, and Spencer suddenly feels too warm, feels a little trapped under Brendon's gaze.

There's no point lying, even if Brendon's eyebrows are furrowed together as he stares at Spencer. "Yeah. You're up early."

Brendon shrugs, stepping closer to lean against the couch when he yawns. "I didn't sleep well."

Spencer breathes in without thinking and immediately regrets it. Brendon's scent is strong, strong and thick with sexual frustration that Spencer can nearly taste. He swallows, suddenly very glad for the blanket thrown over his lap.

"I'm gonna." Brendon nods toward the kitchen and Spencer nods back, watching as Brendon walks away, his boxers sliding down low on his hips.

Spencer lets his head fall back on the arm of the couch, running a hand through his hair and trying to figure out the most heterosexual way to convince Brendon it's okay to masturbate, really, and that being turned on all the time would not, in fact, help Spencer deal with this new fixation on the way Brendon smells. He tries not to think about how relieved he is to know that Brendon doesn't hate Spencer for being so fucked up about all this, for the way he acted last night.

When Spencer finally gets up from the couch, he's unbelievably grateful for the smell of burnt toast to focus on, and when he sits down at the table he can almost look Brendon in the eye.

-

Things don't exactly get easier over the next few days, but they do get easier to ignore. Spencer's pretty sure that he's being overtly obvious about his sudden desire to really buckle down in the studio, but no one calls him on it. It's not so bad, when they practice all day and the smell of sweat helps to drown out the smell of Brendon. By the third day of sleeping downstairs and doing everything possible to avoid any one-on-one time with Brendon, though, things are starting to get to him. Brendon's smell is getting stronger and stronger, sexual frustration and arousal and it's like Spencer can't escape it. On the fourth night that Spencer sleeps on the couch, Brendon gets up in the middle of the night and wanders by on his way to the fridge, sleepy and ruffled and scratching idly at his stomach, his cock hard and jutting out in front of him and Spencer nearly bites through the inside of his cheek, trying to stop himself from making a low noise as he breathes Brendon in.

Spencer lies in the dark with his hands clenched at his sides until Brendon heads back upstairs, and listens for Brendon's breathing to even back out before he heads upstairs to Ryan's room. Ryan's kind of a possessive little fucker about his space, and Ryan's room is pretty much the one place in the house Spencer's sure Brendon hasn't been in the past few days.

"Whazzit?" Ryan mumbles when Spencer shuts his door and climbs under the covers.

"I'm sleeping here," Spencer says, kicking Ryan away when he immediately tries to shove his cold feet between Spencer's calves. "Stop that, fucker."

"You're a guest here," Ryan says sleepily, yanking the covers closer.

"Shut up," Spencer says, tugging the covers back over. "Just go to sleep."

Ryan does, almost immediately, and Spencer breathes in deep and sighs in relief at the relatively Brendon-free air. Not that it stops him from thinking about Brendon, sleeping down the hall, about how easy it would be to just slip in and climb into Brendon's bed. Spencer is well aware of how easy it would be to hold him down and bury his face in Brendon's neck, nose down his stomach and to his cock, and holy shit, he is in Ryan's bed right now. Spencer clenches his jaw and keeps his hands over the covers and falls asleep reminding himself over and over that he's not a horny teenager anymore and jerking off in Ryan's bed is not okay.

-

The whole not being a horny teenager thing isn't nearly as convincing when Spencer wakes up with a gasp, his boxers sticky and Ryan staring down at him with big eyes.

"Good morning," Ryan says in his usual monotone, and Spencer drops his head back down to his pillow, laughing just a little at how ridiculous the situation is. His cock is still hard and throbbing between his legs, like he hasn't come yet, and he can still taste Brendon's skin under his tongue, still feel Brendon's wrists flexing under his hands.

"I made breakfast," Ryan says. "Did you just have a wet dream?"

Spencer reaches up and pushes his hair out of his face, glaring up at Ryan. "You cooked again? Because we talked about this."

"I made cereal," he says with a shrug. "Is it a werewolf thing? Having wet dreams?"

"Get the fuck out," Spencer says, closing his eyes and groaning.

"It's my room," Ryan says, but he just sounds amused, and Ryan's smiling when Spencer slits his eyes open and watches Ryan leave.

-

Ryan's pretty insistent on trying to lay down a demo, and Spencer can tell it's not going to work the second he steps into the studio. Brendon's been in there for about an hour, setting levels and setting up his keyboard, and holy shit, the way Brendon smells. It's worse, so much worse than it's ever been before, and Spencer's been holding back for so long that he just kind of snaps, his wolf brain engaging and forcing him forward. He stalks over to Brendon, pressing up close and crowding Brendon against the wall without even meaning to, pressing close and breathing him in. Brendon goes still, absolutely still, and tips his head back, baring the side of his neck. Spencer lets out a low, rough noise of approval and moves forward, his hand reaching out for Brendon's waist, reaching to hold him in place and keep him there before he hears Jon and Ryan in the hall and somehow manages enough presence of mind to spring back guiltily. Spencer looks at Brendon helplessly, his entire body shaking with the effort of holding back, his nostrils still flaring as he breathes Brendon in. Brendon's pressed against the wall, his eyes wide and his face flushed. His hips are tilted forward and Spencer can see his cock pressing against the front of his sweatpants, can smell him, how frustrated he is.

The only thing that stops him from falling to his knees and burying his face in Brendon's lap is Ryan and Jon, who walk in arguing loudly about the bass line for the song they're trying to demo. When they see how Spencer has Brendon crowded into the wall, however, they shut up almost at once.

Spencer steps back and stalks over to his kit, and even though he doesn't look back, he can hear that it takes Brendon a few more seconds before he moves away from the wall.

"Right, that wasn't weird or anything," Ryan says loudly, leaning down to pick up his guitar and plug it into the amp. Jon gives Spencer a pointed look, but Spencer ignores him. He doesn't even know what just happened, how is he supposed to have an excuse for it? Spencer swears to himself when he drops one of his drumsticks, picking it up and clenching his jaw in frustration. He has to get this under control. No matter how fucking horny Brendon is, Spencer can't keep pushing him into walls, getting closer and closer to doing something he's really, really going to regret.

They make it halfway through the first take before Brendon fumbles a line and curses loudly, smacking at his mic stand. "Fuck," he says again, stalking through the door to reset the soundboard.

Spencer breaks a stick during the second take because he's drumming too hard, Brendon's voice cracks on the third, and when Brendon breaks a string on the fourth he tosses his guitar to the floor and kicks at it, sending it skidding across the studio.

"Fuck this," Ryan says, setting is guitar pointedly on the wall rack. "I'm done."

Spencer clenches his hands around his sticks as he watches Ryan stomp out, and Jon turns and looks warily between Spencer and Brendon.

"Look," he says. "I tried to stay out of this, both of us did, but clearly you two aren't working it out on your own. So, you know, do that. Please. And don't kill each other in the process, preferably."

Spencer stares down at his hands as Jon leaves and continues to stare even when he hears Brendon moving toward him. He's honestly not expecting it when Brendon grabs at the collar of his shirt and pulls, and Spencer flails his hands out as he scrambles to his feet to avoid falling ass-first off his drum throne.

"Brendon, the fuck," he says, trying his best to ignore how being pissed off apparently makes Brendon smell even better.

"No," Brendon says, stalking forward angrily. "Uh uh, you don't get to ask the fuck, I get to ask the fuck, and seriously, Spencer, the fuck." Brendon's panting a little, and he also has Spencer backed literally into a corner. "Why the fuck won't you even look at me? You're completely ignoring me, you won't even sleep in the same room as me, and then all of a sudden after a week of ignoring me you practically molest me?"

"It wasn't a week," Spencer mumbles, still trying to avoid Brendon's eyes.

"Spencer," Brendon says, pushing even closer. "Look at me." Brendon's standing so close that Spencer can feel the heat from his body, smell his sweat and his arousal and his anger, and Spencer can't-- he can't be this close to Brendon right now, not when he's still keyed up and on edge from earlier.

"You need to move," Spencer says, wincing a little at how rough his voice comes out.

"No, fuck you," Brendon says, pressing even closer until Spencer can feel where he's hard, where his whole body is trembling almost imperceptibly.

"You need to move," Spencer repeats desperately, clenching his fists at his sides, "before I end up hurting you again."

"You didn't hurt me," Brendon says, bringing a hand up slowly to rest on Spencer's chest. "I'm fine." Spencer breathes in shallowly, trying to avoid taking in too much of Brendon's scent so he doesn't get lightheaded and dizzy with it, doesn't lose his head and fuck up again.

"What if I want to?" Spencer asks, still breathing shallowly in a last-ditch attempt to keep some semblance of control.

"I don't think hurting me is what you want, Spence," Brendon says softly before wrapping his arms around Spencer's neck and pressing close. Brendon buries his face in Spencer's neck and Spencer can feel where he's still shaking, how his arousal flares up even more once he's pressed close to Spencer. Spencer closes his eyes and gives in, just for a second, pushing his nose to the skin below Brendon's ear and breathing in deep. He exhales shakily and he's reaching up for Brendon's waist before he catches himself, going rigid and pulling back as much as he can.

"Brendon, no," Spencer says, a little desperately. "No, you've got to let go, I can't be close to you like this."

"Yes you can," Brendon almost shouts, pulling back and staring Spencer in the eye. "You can, because I want you to, you fucking idiot. I haven't exactly been subtle about this, Spencer."

"I can't," Spencer says again, his voice almost a whine. "You don't know what it's like, Brendon, how you smell, what it makes me-- I'm going to hurt you, I can't help it."

"Spencer," Brendon says in the tone he usually reserves for explaining the finer points of not being an asshole to Ryan. "Did it ever once occur to you that maybe if you'd stop fighting it, it would stop feeling like something you had to control?"

"You don't-- I can't--" Spencer says, and he has apparently forgotten words at this point. Brendon doesn't know what it's like, he can't know what it's like. The first time Spencer got angry after he was changed - like, really pissed off and not just annoyed - he had torn his bedroom door off the hinges in an effort to slam it. He's had to completely relearn his limits so he doesn't accidentally crack someone's ribs when he hugs them, and that's nothing compared to what he could do to Brendon, or what he wants to do to Brendon, even, if he really lets himself think about it.

"I do," Brendon says, pressing in closer again. "And you can."

"No, you don't," Spencer growls. "You don't have any fucking idea what could happen if I lose control. Brendon, I could-- what if I grab you too hard and fucking crack your ribs? I could do it. I could do it without even meaning to because I can't even think when I'm around you. I want to just grab you and hold you down and--"

"Spencer," Brendon says, cutting him off, his voice low and concerned. "Spencer, you're so careful all the time, why would this be any different?"

"Because I want," Spencer says, his voice raw. He wants to say more, to explain it so Brendon will get it, but he can't find the words. "We shouldn't," Spencer tries. "Is this even what you want? Have you thought about--"

"Spencer, for fuck's sake, why do you think I wanted to share a room here? Why do you think we always share hotel rooms?"

"Because Jon and Ryan snore," Spencer answers helplessly.

"Spencer, you snore," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "This isn't exactly new, and you being a werewolf doesn't change anything. Fuck, Spencer, I haven't jerked off in over a week, not since you told me you could smell it. I was hoping you would maybe take the hint."

"Take the hint," Spencer says incredulously. "Brendon, you've been fucking torturing me."

"You try not jerking off for a week. It hasn't exactly been a picnic for me either," Brendon says, his eyes flashing. "Now seriously, Spencer, I want this. Either you do too or you've got to be straight with me and stop avoiding me, because it's kind of starting to hurt my delicate feelings." Brendon's grinning by the end of it, pressing even closer like he knows what the answer is going to be.

"It's not safe, Brendon," Spencer says. "I'm going to hurt you, even if I don't want to--"

Brendon cuts him off by kissing him, licking at Spencer's lips and pressing forward until he's straddling Spencer's thigh, rocking his hips forward in small, jerky movements. This is a bad idea, a terrible, dangerous idea, but Spencer's been waiting to do this for so long that he can't help it, he has to. He finally unclenches his fists and presses his hands to the small of Brendon's back, holding him there, pressing him closer. Brendon's arousal spikes hot and sudden when Spencer touches him, and Spencer groans against Brendon's lips before tearing his mouth away to kiss down Brendon's jaw, under his chin, down his throat until he has his nose pressed to the hollow of Brendon's throat, breathing him in. He smells incredible, warm and sweet and heavy, and Spencer presses closer, licking at Brendon's neck where he's beginning to sweat a little. Brendon groans and rolls his hips, moving against Spencer's thigh more frantically and clutching desperately at Spencer's shoulders.

Spencer's so caught up in finally getting to touch Brendon that it takes him a minute to realize how close Brendon is, how sharp the smell is now, the way Brendon's thighs are trembling where they're pressed around Spencer's. Spencer grabs Brendon by the waist and picks him up as gently as possible, setting him down far enough away that Spencer can squeeze out from between Brendon's body and the wall.

"You have got to be fucking with me," Brendon says, his eyes dark and wide, breath coming in harsh pants.

"You cannot do that right now," Spencer says, slowly making his way toward the door as Brendon stares at him. "I mean, you can if you want, but I can't be here, not yet."

"I hate you," Brendon says, slumping back against the wall. "I take it all back, I hate you, you're an asshole."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says, his head spinning a little from how turned on he is, how strong Brendon's smell is. "I've got to--"

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says weakly. "I know. But I swear to god if you sleep on the couch tonight I'm going to jerk off over you while you sleep."

Spencer growls a little, low in his throat, and Brendon's eyes get even wider, dark and considering. "Yeah?"

"No," Spencer says, mortified and still so, so turned on. "No." He tries to sound stern as he backs out of the door, but he's pretty sure he mostly just sounds embarrassed, if Brendon's smirk is anything to go by.

Spencer holds his breath until he can get to the downstairs bathroom, thankful that Jon and Ryan are nowhere in sight, and he barely gets his hand down his pants before he's coming, hot and wet over his fist. It doesn't even feel like a relief, and Spencer leans his head forward against the door and keeps stroking. He comes twice in under five minutes, and only stops when he hears the front door of the cabin open. His cock is still hard when he tucks it under the waistband of his underwear, and Spencer ignores Jon and Ryan's curious looks when he hurries out of the bathroom and out the front door, walking until the trees are all he can smell when he breathes deep.

Spencer is so in over his head with this. He's turned on and terrified and he can still taste Brendon, still smell him, and all he wants to do is turn back around and march back inside, grab Brendon, and drag him up the stairs. The problem is, he knows Brendon would be completely on board with that plan. What Brendon should do is tell him to fuck off so that Spencer can just spend the rest of his life pining hopelessly - and going slowly insane. But of course Brendon has to go and make things complicated by being insane and apparently completely unconcerned for his own safety. Spencer leans heavily against the nearest tree, closing his eyes and breathing in deep until his heart stops pounding in his ears.

-

When Spencer makes his way back inside, Jon, Ryan, and Brendon are all gathered around the TV with pizza boxes spread out between them.

"Brendon said things were okay now, so I decided to feed you," Ryan says. "I even defended your meat from Jon."

Brendon laughs, obnoxiously loud. "Defended your meat from Jon," he says gleefully.

"Oh my god," Spencer groans, walking forward and grabbing the unopened pizza box before sinking the floor, strategically keeping himself away from Brendon for the time being.

"Whatever," Jon says around a mouthful of pepperoni. "Who knew a pizza made entirely of meat could be so good?"

"There's cheese," Spencer says defensively, grabbing a slice. "And the crust. The crust isn't meat."

"But if they made a pizza with meat crust, you'd eat it, wouldn't you?" Jon asks curiously.

"Dude," Ryan says. "Dude, like. Pizza on top of a steak instead of dough. That's amazing. And disgusting. But amazing."

"You totally smoked up without me, didn't you?" Spencer says, looking around the room.

"Just a little," Brendon replies, his eyes wide and shining. His hair is all messed up and he has tomato sauce at the corner of his mouth, and Spencer swallows his bite of pizza and forces himself to keep his eyes on Jon and Ryan as they discuss the finer points of porkchop pizza. Which actually does sound sort of good, if Spencer is being honest with himself.

-

Brendon hauls himself up from the floor relatively early, saying he's tired, and Spencer does his best to ignore the pointed look Brendon throws him on his way up the stairs. Any illusions he had that things would be easier now go out the window a few minutes later, when he gets distracted from the conversation by a faint groan. And. Son of a bitch. Spencer tries - valiantly, he thinks - to ignore the sound and the smell of Brendon jerking off upstairs as he watches the end of the movie Jon picked, something about a killer with a giant knife and an endless string of bad catch phrases.

He makes it all of five minutes before he stands up and says good night over the sound of the gruesome murder on the screen. When he walks into his room, Brendon is spread out on top his bed, his briefs crooked on his hips and an entirely self-satisfied look on his face. Also, the entire room smells like come.

"That was mean," Spencer says, hovering in the doorway.

"That was necessary," Brendon says, patting the bed next to him. "I was trying to be nice."

"You failed epically," Spencer says, going to sit beside Brendon reluctantly. "Hey, seriously, we can't-- slow, okay? I don't want to fuck things up by violently murdering you or anything, so. Slow."

"You're such a sweet talker," Brendon says, leaning in and kissing Spencer softly. Spencer has things mostly under control until Brendon brings his hand up to tangle in Spencer's hair, and Spencer's hit with the sudden smell of Brendon's come, and jesus, fuck, son of a bitch. Spencer groans and pulls away, turning his face to nuzzle into Brendon's palm.

"What are-- oh," Brendon says after a moment. "Seriously?"

"I told you how good you smell," Spencer whines, and he can't help it, not with his mouth already so close to Brendon's hand, the smell of Brendon's come. He leans up and licks over Brendon's palm, between his fingers, sucking on the webbing between Brendon's thumb and pointer finger where the taste is strongest.

Brendon gasps, his hips jerking, and Spencer pulls back at the sudden flare in Brendon's scent, and-- no, no. He cannot do this right now. Spencer scrambles to his feet and ignores Brendon's confused noise, heading for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," Spencer says from the doorway, still breathing heavily. "I'm going to take a shower, and you're going to go to sleep, and then I'm going to go to sleep."

"I think you meant you're going to jerk off in the shower, and I am going to come and watch you jerk off in the shower, and then we are going to go to sleep?" Brendon asks hopefully.

"Only part of that is true," Spencer says as he closes the door.

-

They head back to the studio the next day for a second try at recording the demo, and things go significantly better. Spencer feels more relaxed, Brendon isn't as wound up, and now the only problem is Ryan and Jon, and how they keep looking nervously between the two of them, like they're waiting for something to go wrong.

"What?" Spencer finally snaps after their third run-through. "What is the issue?

"Nothing!" Jon says entirely too quickly. "We were just. You know. Looking?" he trails off.

"It's fine," Spencer says sternly.

"Yes," Ryan replies. "Yes, I can see that you're happier than you've ever been."

Brendon snorts quietly before heading over to Spencer and wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders. "Look," he says. "Look, we're total BFFs again. We have a double's bike ride planned for this afternoon, and tomorrow we're going to visit the farmers' market!"

Spencer rolls his eyes and shrugs Brendon off his shoulders, grinning a little to himself when Brendon squeezes before he lets go. "Can we record now?" Spencer asks.

"Wait," Ryan says. "Was that farmers' market thing a joke? Because I want apples."

-

Recording goes kind of awesomely. They lay down something passable in three takes, and Ryan scurries off to email Pete a few minutes after Jon wanders off on the phone with Cassie. Spencer feels pretty good about things, and he starts running through some practice rolls on his kit while Brendon rearranges the guitars on the rack.

He gets kind of into it, and starts pushing the tempo until he's just playing one of the beats he came up with a few days ago. It's fast and complicated, and Spencer totally loses himself in it until he feels Brendon's hand on his shoulder. Spencer startles a little, one of his drumsticks flying out of his hand and hitting the wall. Brendon and Spencer wince.

"Oops.”

"Right, well, this had better be good," Spencer says, turning away from his kit and toward Brendon. Brendon's grinning, and Spencer isn't sure why until Brendon settles down into Spencer's lap, his knees thrown over Spencer's thighs, straddling him. Spencer makes a startled noise and grabs onto Brendon's hips before Brendon falls to the floor, loosening his grip as soon as he knows Brendon's secure on his lap.

"Um," Spencer says, and he immediately regrets it when he breathes in and is hit by a fresh wave of Brendon's scent, thick and warm around him.

"I've actually been wanting to do this for a while, so just shut up for a minute and let me have my moment."

"I'm going to drop you," Spencer says faintly, watching the way Brendon's throat bobs when he swallows.

Brendon just grins at him and says, "No, you're not," as he leans in to kiss Spencer.

Brendon's t-shirt has ridden up a little, and when Spencer squeezes carefully at Brendon's hips there's so much skin, skin and Brendon kissing him slowly, the smell of his arousal growing steadily in the air around them. Spencer squeezes again, enjoying the way Brendon shifts forward a little when he does it. This is so not a good idea, and Spencer should be getting up and walking away, but then Brendon's opening his mouth and Spencer can't help kissing deeper. It's overwhelming and it's dangerous and Spencer is fucking intoxicated by all of it.

"Fuck, Spencer," Brendon groans, shifting forward in Spencer's lap, trying to press the hard line of his cock against Spencer's. Spencer growls low in his throat, his mouth moving down to Brendon's jaw, sucking at a spot under Brendon's ear. The smell of arousal spikes, and Spencer squeezes Brendon's hips again, just a little tighter, as he sucks harder at Brendon's skin, the sound of Brendon's moans and rough panting filling his ears.

"Let's just-- c'mon, Spence, can we please. I want you," Brendon whines, leaning heavily into Spencer, tilting his head so his neck is bared for Spencer's mouth.

Spencer doesn't want to stop. He really, really fucking does not want to stop, but he knows he's close to coming and he knows that if they go that far he won't be able to stop if Brendon asks again.

"You are such a fucking cocktease," Spencer groans, pulling back and kissing Brendon hard on the mouth, lips sliding together. He picks Brendon up and moves him out of his lap as he stands up.

"I'm. What?" Brendon's lips are red and his t-shirt is still stuck right above the strip of belly before his jeans, and Spencer wants to go jerk off forever. "You're calling me a cocktease? Seriously?"

"You," Spencer says, reaching out in spite of his common sense and running his hand over Brendon's exposed stomach, "are teasing my cock. Ergo."

"Please take stock of this situation and then call me a cocktease again," Brendon says, pushing his hips forward into Spencer's hand.

"Fuck," Spencer says, dropping his hand quickly. "I'm sorry, just, not yet."

"See?" Brendon says, heading toward the door of the studio. "Cock. Tease."

Brendon's been gone for about two seconds before Spencer shoves his hand down his shorts, but then something occurs to him and he stops himself, staring at the half-open door.

"Brendon," Spencer calls after him. "Brendon, please do not jerk off in our bedroom!"

-

Brendon jerks off in their bedroom. Spencer can smell it when he walks in later to change his boxers, and he groans, letting his head fall heavily against the wall once he's changed.

"Oh hey," Brendon says, sticking his head out of the bathroom. "Jon and Ryan are making a campfire. I just took a shower because of how I jerked off all over myself."

"I really hate you," Spencer says.

"I could have not showered," Brendon says with a grin. "That would have been meaner. Now come here."

"Jon and Ryan are building a fire. Like, in the wilderness. I have to supervise," Spencer says.

"Cock. Tease," Brendon calls at his retreating back. "And also make sure they don't eat all the marshmallows before I get there. And don't you eat them all either. I know you can hear me."

-

"That has never worked," Ryan's saying when Spencer heads out to the backyard. "I've seen you try this like six times. It's never worked."

"I did it once. I told you I did it once. I got a badge," Jon says, furiously rubbing two sticks together.

"We believe you," Spencer says, walking over and taking the sticks away from Jon. "You've told us several times that your mom has pictures. Why don't we just use some newspaper and matches since we're not actually stuck in the wilderness and I'd prefer that none of us died."

"But if we were," Jon says, "I could totally make us a fire."

"It's okay, Jon," Ryan says seriously. "We know how awesome you are."

"Voila," Spencer says, stepping away and grabbing a paper plate to fan at the glowing embers. "We have fire. Ryan, don't step in it." He can distantly smell Brendon over the smoke. He must be coming outside.

"That was once," Ryan says with a groan, falling back onto a lawn chair. "I was eight. Let it go."

"Is that why your feet look so weird?" Jon asks.

"What?" Ryan says. "What's wrong with my feet?"

"They have finger-toes," Jon says. "Like, it's neat, but then sometimes they make me nervous."

"You smoke way too much weed," Brendon says, walking up to the campfire.

"Agreed," Ryan says. "My feet are fine."

"Your feet are totally weird looking, but Jon's still a paranoid motherfucker," Brendon says, falling down into one of the deck chairs they'd dragged outside. "Now, Spencer, prepare me a s'more. Bonus points if you burn the marshmallow and then feed it to me."

Spencer hears him, and he rolls his eyes, but he's mostly staring out into the forest, because seriously, holy shit, it's like a Disney movie out there. There's a deer and three rabbits and some squirrels and at least four raccoons all within a mile radius of their campfire. Spencer can't smell anything dangerous, no coyotes or bears or mountain lions or anything, but it's still a little troubling to be surrounded by wildlife. Spencer grew up in the suburbs. He mostly likes dogs.

"Dude," Ryan says. "Why are you sniffing?"

"Huh?" Spencer asks, whipping his head around. "Oh. Just. There's... animals. And stuff."

"Holy shit," Jon says, laughing. "Oh my god, this is priceless, are you seriously daydreaming about chasing rabbits right now?"

"No, fuck you," Spencer snaps, because he maybe was. Just a little.

"Do you think you could catch me a squirrel?" Ryan asks. "I always felt like squirrels would understand me."

"I don't even know how to respond to that," Spencer says.

"I wouldn't mind a bunny," Brendon adds. "One with the floppy ears."

"You're all assholes," Spencer says.

"Hey," Jon says, sounding affronted. "I didn't ask for anything. Because I want a mountain lion but I know that would be dangerous."

"Congratulations," Spencer says dryly. "It's refreshing that you're so rational."

"There's nothing irrational about a pet bunny," Brendon grumbles, walking over to the picnic table to grab some marshmallows and the fancy and unnecessary marshmallow roasting sticks they got at the store.

"You're right," Spencer says, getting up and reaching around Brendon to grab a stick. Brendon still smells a little turned on, a little like come, and Spencer presses closer to him without thinking about it, dropping his head to sniff behind Brendon's ear. He doesn't realize what he's doing until Brendon shivers, pressing back into Spencer a little, solid and warm, and only then does Spencer's head jerk up. "Totally rational and totally delicious," Spencer says into Brendon's ear, and Brendon groans.

"Now who's the asshole," Brendon says, walking back over to the campfire. He crouches down in front of the fire, holding the end of the stick near the burning orange embers at the center of the logs. Spencer's a little surprised - usually Brendon just waves his marshmallows over the top until they catch fire. He's only a little weirded out with himself that he knows Brendon's s'mores-making habits.

Spencer stops watching Brendon and walks back to the campfire just to catch Ryan in the process of picking his s'more apart to eat it, getting gooey marshmallow all over his fingers. Spencer doesn't find it weird at all that he knows how Ryan eats s'mores. They had their share of sleepovers and playing with fire as kids, so Spencer has become very familiar with Ryan's weird habits over the years. Like meticulously roasting a marshmallow to perfection, using an exact amount of a chocolate bar, and then picking the whole thing apart to eat it after all the effort of putting it together.

"What if," Ryan says as he wipes his sticky hands on Jon's jeans once he's done eating the s'more, "we have a mountain lion in the musical. It can be, like, a foil for the wolf. They can be enemies."

"Oh god," Spencer says.

"As long as you don't kill it, Ryan," Jon says, pushing Ryan's hands away. "I mean it. Don't kill the kitty."

"It's a lion, Jon," Ryan says. "A warrior."

"Are you guys sure you didn't smoke up?" Brendon asks. "I don't want to sing about ninja cats."

"Ninja cats," Jon says contemplatively. "That actually sounds fully awesome. We should write a musical about ninja cats."

"No," Spencer says automatically. "This is how we ended up with a wolf musical. I will not stand for this."

"As awesome as ninja cats probably are, I really don't want to sing about them," Brendon repeats, standing up to go assemble his s'more.

They each make a few more s'mores before the chocolate runs out, and then Spencer makes a few hot dogs, much to the amusement of everyone else. Spencer almost forgets he's supposed to be behaving around Brendon when he looks over and Brendon is licking marshmallow and chocolate off his fingers, though. Spencer watches Brendon suck his sticky fingers past his lips and instantly something hot unfurls low in his stomach, hot and possessive and wanting. Brendon catches Spencer's gaze, grinning as he finishes cleaning off his fingers. He has to be aware of what shit like that does to Spencer, and seriously, he is such a fucking tease.

"What should we do now?" Ryan says, swatting at a bug on his arm. "The food's gone."

"We could enjoy the majestic beauty of nature," Spencer says, tearing his eyes away from Brendon.

"Or," Jon says, "we could get high."

"Around an open fire? While Ryan exists?" Spencer asks. "Uh uh. No."

"I could get high," Jon says sadly. "Can I get high?"

"That's not fair," Ryan says immediately. "Maybe we should sing campfire songs."

"Do you know any campfire songs?" Spencer asks, because he knows for a fact that Ryan does not.

"I know that they exist," Ryan says.

"All the ones I know are about God," Brendon pipes up. "And one really dirty one I learned on a scout retreat."

"Your life is strange," Spencer tells him, because, seriously.

"That is an awesome idea," Jon says excitedly. "Let's write a dirty campfire song. Like, the dirtiest campfire song ever."

"Or we could go inside," Spencer says. The raccoons keep moving closer to them, probably after the leftover bits of food. It's making him a little nervous.

"No, wait," Ryan says. "Wait, I've got this, what rhymes with ejaculate?"

"Exterminate," Brendon says immediately in his best Dalek voice. "Also, exfoliate. Procreate. Inseminate?"

"Inseminate!" Ryan says excitedly. "That'll work."

"That's it," Spencer says. "I'm out. If you guys get high and someone dies, I don't want to hear about it."

"What about alleviate?" Jon asks. "That could work too."

Spencer ignores them all, and he's halfway to the house when he hears Brendon make a flimsy excuse about bugs and start heading his way. Spencer slows his steps down, grinning a little to himself when he hears Brendon start to jog toward him, trying to catch up.

"Not up for writing songs about come?" Spencer asks when Brendon rounds the corner. Brendon stops short, skidding kind of hilariously.

"You know Ryan. It would have just turned into a struggle for artistic control," Brendon says, falling into step beside Spencer as they head toward the cabin. "I'm up for other stuff, though," Brendon says around a yawn.

"Yes, that was very convincing," Spencer says. Brendon stops in front of the door and turns toward him, pressing his face to the middle of Spencer's chest. Spencer can tell Brendon's still turned on, but he's also pretty obviously tired, and Spencer has to shuffle him inside when he reaches around Brendon to open the door.

Spencer's still a little concerned that Ryan and Jon are going to fall in the fire and die a horrible, fiery death, but they'll probably come in once the raccoons lurking at the edge of the woods decide to come and join their campfire. Maybe it was just a little bit mean Spencer didn't tell them about the raccoons. Ryan has never trusted raccoons, because they have people hands.

"Okay, so, hey, you know how you have super werewolf strength that you're scared you'll use to accidentally kill me?" Brendon asks when they get inside and Spencer leads him toward the stairs.

"Nope, I've forgotten all about that," Spencer says. "Thanks so much for reminding me."

"That's not what I meant." Brendon sticks his bottom lip out at Spencer, and Spencer feels something hot coil in his stomach. He's so gone.

"C'mon," Spencer says, heading toward the stairs. "We can argue upstairs. While I'm asleep."

"Aw, Spence, hey," Brendon says, grabbing at the back of his shirt. "My point was that instead of worrying about using your super strength for murder, you can start using it for good! Good meaning you should carry me up the stairs. Please?" Brendon's only had a few beers, so he can't be that drunk, but he does sound tired. Spencer groans. He really doesn't know if he can take Brendon pressed all against him right now.

"No. It's like twelve steps. I have faith that you can make it."

Brendon reluctantly follows Spencer as he starts up the stairs. "I'm not even that heavy! I've lost, like, 5 pounds."

Spencer stops in the middle of the staircase, turning to look down at Brendon. "Wait, really? Why? What the fuck are you losing weight for?"

Brendon shrugs. "It's just all the hiking we've been doing, I guess.”

"That's not--" Spencer pauses, feeling more than a little ridiculous at how much this is upsetting him. "You don't need to lose weight, Brendon. You weigh like ten pounds. Fuck." Spencer already has all these insane ideas about feeding Brendon until he gains the weight back and he's starting to freak himself out.

"So you'll carry me, then?"

"No," Spencer says shortly, starting back up the stairs.

"Not even if I beg?"

Spencer has to take a deep breath, and he almost groans at the faint scent of arousal that's coming from Brendon. "No. Also, fuck you."

There's the sound of soft footsteps coming up behind Spencer, and then Brendon's launching himself at Spencer's back, grabbing at his shoulders. Spencer leans forward to steady himself, reaching back instinctively to grab at Brendon's thighs, making sure to keep his grip steady without being too tight. It takes him a minute before he starts climbing again, way too aware of the way Brendon's pressed all along his back, warm and heavy and tired.

"That's cheating. You're an asshole."

"Uh huh," Brendon says, yawning into the back of Spencer's neck. Spencer's fingers grip Brendon's legs just a little tighter, holding on as he heads for their room. Luckily the door isn't shut all the way, so Spencer kicks it open and carries Brendon inside, sitting down slowly on top of Brendon's mattress.

"Bedtime," Spencer says softly, closing his eyes to take a minute to memorize the way Brendon feels, all warm and solid, pressed against Spencer's back. Spencer shifts on the bed after a minute, trying to get Brendon to let go, but Brendon just clings tighter and nuzzles his face into Spencer's neck. Brendon smells warm and sleepy and perfect, like wood smoke and faint arousal. Spencer shudders at the touch of Brendon's lips to the back of his neck and says, "Hey, Brendon. Come on."

"Just stay," Brendon murmurs, voice thick with sleep, and Spencer's pulse speeds up at the idea of it, of curling up around Brendon and holding him all night, smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. "Please."

"I can't. I'm sorry, I just." Spencer stands up and Brendon reluctantly lets go, collapsing on his bed.

"When I die in my sleep from hunger, you'll be sorry we didn't spend these last precious moments together," Brendon says sleepily, burrowing his face into his pillow.

"I'll be real torn up," Spencer says, ignoring the sudden surge of anger he feels even at the joking prospect of Brendon dying. "Go to sleep," he says, leaning down and kissing Brendon softly. Brendon makes a happy, rumbly noise against Spencer's lips, and by the time Spencer's pulled off his pants and climbed under the covers of his own bed, he can already hear Brendon's slow, even breathing.

-

Spencer wakes up the next morning, looks over at Brendon, then heads downstairs to make waffles. He is completely and totally crazy, but it's kind of worth it when Brendon stumbles downstairs at the first smell of bacon and looks at Spencer with wide eyes.

"You are so insane," Brendon says around a yawn.

"Shut up, maybe I wanted waffles," Spencer says, turning around to face the waffle iron so Brendon won't see him blush.

"Did you?" Brendon asks, pressing in close against Spencer's back and kissing under his ear.

"I wanted bacon," Spencer says. He kind of wants to shiver and he definitely wants to turn around and stick his face in Brendon's neck and get a deeper smell. It's not that Spencer's not fond of it, but the wolf part of him seems to really, really enjoy Brendon first thing in the morning, when he smells like sweat and faded soap.

Spencer's saved from having to make a decision one way or the other when Jon comes shuffling down the stairs heavily. "Dude," he says as he walks into the kitchen about a second after Brendon's detached himself from Spencer's back. "Dude, if that is bacon I will fuck your mother."

"I don't see how that is possibly supposed to encourage me to give you any of my bacon," Spencer says.

"I love you so much, dude," Jon says gravely, dropping a hand on Spencer's shoulder and looking at him very seriously, "that I want to be your dad."

"There's something wrong with you," Spencer says, reaching for a piece of bacon and eating in front of Jon just to be a dick. "Like, seriously wrong."

Jon just shrugs and nabs a piece of bacon off the plate. Ryan shows up about five minutes after the coffee is done and Spencer is handing out waffles, falling heavily into a chair and pushing his plate forward before dropping his head back down to his arms. "Five," he says into the tabletop. "Five waffles."

Spencer gives Brendon five and everyone else three, and he's pretty sure he's going to get away with it when Brendon just gives him a smile that's half amused and half genuinely happy. Then Ryan notices.

"Wait," he says. "Wait, what the fuck."

"Brendon's skinny," Spencer says, staring at his own plate.

"I'm skinny," Ryan says, sounding affronted. "I'm way skinnier than Brendon, fuck you."

"You're welcome," Spencer says, looking at Ryan pointedly. "It was no trouble at all, so glad you're enjoying your waffles.”

"This is bullshit," Ryan says, reaching over and grabbing bacon from Spencer's plate. It's only because he has known Ryan for a very long time and he would probably feel pretty bad about it later that he doesn't kill Ryan.

"I'm telling your mother next time she calls," Ryan says.

"Hey speaking of, I wouldn't mind talking to your mom next time she calls," Jon says, waggling his eyebrows. "I think we have some stuff to work out."

"Wait, what?" Ryan asks.

"Fuck you," Spencer says, grabbing a waffle from Jon's plate, licking it, and sticking it on top of Ryan's pile.

"Dude," Jon says, when Ryan happily digs in. "You guys are way too close."

Spencer just rolls his eyes and tries to hide his smile around a bite of waffle when Brendon kicks his foot under the table.

-

Spencer has laid down some very strict rules about where Brendon is not allowed to initiate making out, and their bedroom is numbers one, two, and three on that list. He had to get pretty specific. Brendon's still pretty shit at following the rules, but Spencer can't actually blame him for taking the opportunity to straddle Spencer on the couch when Ryan and Jon go into town for groceries.

"So," Brendon says, looking down at him. "We are not in our bedroom. Not even a little."

"That's true," Spencer says, settling his hands on Brendon's hips. He's not actually in the mood to put up a fight right now, not when Brendon's been vaguely turned on all day.

Brendon grins and leans down, kissing at Spencer's bottom lip and shifting closer, wiggling in Spencer's lap until he's settled in and comfortable.

"Oh," he says when he ends up with a thigh pressed up against Spencer's erection. "Really?"

"Shut up," Spencer says, kissing Brendon back.

"No, really," Brendon says, pulling back. "Is this like a werewolf thing or am I just exceptionally good at kissing?"

"Kind of both," Spencer says, blushing just a little and sliding his hand up Brendon's back, pushing him closer to get at his lips again. The "So, I kind of have a perma-boner for you!" conversation isn't one he's exactly looking forward to having.

"Well, whatever it is, I like it. I think it's your body's way of saying we should get past first base."

"Fuck you," Spencer growls, his hands sliding down to grab at Brendon's ass, keeping his grip as light as he can even though he wants to squeeze down, wants to hold Brendon close. Brendon moans into Spencer's mouth, kissing harder, and Spencer loves the way Brendon's lips feel, the way their mouths meet when Brendon tilts his head slightly and kisses Spencer desperately, like he's making up for the fact that this is all they can do.

"Like this," Brendon says as Spencer's lips trail down his jaw, over his throat. "We should do this, this is good." He shifts forward harder, starting to rock a little against Spencer's thigh. "Fuck."

Brendon's smell is much stronger now, thicker and heavy with arousal, and Spencer can't stop kissing him. He presses open-mouthed kisses to Brendon's neck, the skin sweet and soft under Spencer's lips, and when he finally starts to suck, Brendon tilts his head back and moans.

"Seriously, Spence, fuck," Brendon whines, rocking down harder and tilting his head forward onto Spencer's shoulder. It just brings his neck closer, his smell filling Spencer's senses and making him dizzy, his cock throbbing. Spencer takes a deep breath and reasons with himself that this is okay, just kissing and grinding through clothes is nothing like losing control. But fuck, who is he kidding?

Spencer's hands squeeze down again where they're holding Brendon's ass, and he pushes at Brendon a little harder than he means to, pressing Brendon closer to his body. He feels something sharp at his shoulder, and oh god, Brendon is biting him. Spencer growls low in his throat and feels about two seconds away from coming when Ryan walks into the room.

"Dude," Ryan says, and they pull apart, but Brendon stays in Spencer's lap, both of them flushed and panting. "Dude, is that why he got more waffles? Seriously?"

Spencer wants to laugh and cry at the same time, his cock still throbbing in his pants. "What the fuck, Ryan, let it go."

Brendon tilts his head forward and starts snickering into Spencer's shoulder, and seriously, it's a good thing Spencer has Brendon in his lap, or else he really would get up and kill Ryan.

"But seriously," Ryan says, "if I make out with you, do I get extra waffles?"

"No," Brendon says, lifting his head and glaring at Ryan.

"Oh, that's adorable," Ryan says, smirking. "Maybe I should make out with you instead and Spencer can bribe me with waffles to stop."

"No," Spencer says, his voice coming out in a growl. Not to mention the fact that his first instinct was to grab Brendon's ass again and seriously, seriously, he's going to die of embarrassment long before he dies of sexual frustration.

"Did you really just growl at me? Over Brendon? This is even funnier than that thing with the saran wrap and the Cheerios, holy shit."

"Saran wrap and Cheerios?" Brendon says curiously.

"Ryan," Spencer hisses. "Leave. Go. Now."

"Whatever," Ryan says. "Jon owes me $20 now anyway."

-

To his credit, Jon lasts a few hours before he says anything. Spencer would almost be proud of him if Jon hadn't opened with, "You know, guys, they say that the road ain't no place to start a family."

"I hate you," Spencer says, dropping his head back against the love seat.

"And just remember, Spence, that loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be," Ryan adds seriously.

"No, really, I want to murder you both right now," Spencer says, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oooh, girl," Brendon sings softly, getting up to his knees on the love seat so that he can stare down at Spencer. "Staaaaaaaaaand by meeeeeeee!"

"You're all assholes," Spencer says. "And you," he adds, looking at Brendon, "are a fucking traitor."

He grits his teeth when Brendon throws himself across Spencer's lap and starts singing the "oh oh oh oh ohs," but by the time Ryan picks up the chorus and Jon starts air-guitaring, he's grinning to himself and tapping out the drum beat on Brendon's shoulder. It could have gone much worse, at any rate.


	3. Chapter Three

Spencer tries to lay low for a few days, and he makes it approximately 20 hours before he finds himself on his bed with Brendon on his lap. Brendon is totally breaking the whole no kissing in the bedroom rules, but Spencer still feels a little wary about making out downstairs and having someone walk in on them again. It's completely stupid, but the idea of someone else seeing Brendon like that makes Spencer feel equal parts angry and protective, and seriously, this werewolf shit is really inconvenient.

Spencer tenses up when he starts to smell Brendon's arousal getting stronger and stronger, but Brendon says, "Hey, no running away now. I want to kiss you and so I'm going to. Deal with it."

Spencer makes a frustrated noise that mostly just comes out as a sigh. He grabs at the sheets, afraid to touch Brendon while Brendon's settled down over his lap like this, straddling one of Spencer's thighs and kissing him slowly.

It's going fine, just kissing, but Brendon eventually reaches down and grabs Spencer's hands, bringing them up to his hips. Spencer huffs against Brendon's lips but he lets one of his hands come to rest at the small of Brendon's back, pulling him a little closer. Just because they're on the bed doesn't mean Spencer won't be able to control himself, right? Spencer can totally handle this.

Except, it's just so nice. Brendon's skin is warm under Spencer's hands and his smell is getting stronger the more they kiss, their mouths moving more and more frantically, until it's all that Spencer can think about. Spencer can't feel the exact shape of Brendon's cock through his briefs yet, but he can feel the heat from it, and hear the fast, thudding sound of Brendon's pulse and his ragged breathing.

"See?" Brendon says between kisses, a smile tugging at his lips. "No pressure."

"Fucking easy for you to say," Spencer growls, pushing gently at Brendon's back until Brendon presses closer, and now Spencer can feel Brendon's hard-on against his thigh. Brendon's hips jerk forward as he grinds against Spencer, and the smell flares, filling Spencer's nose and making it hard to focus on anything, let alone on keeping it to making out and making out alone.

Brendon starts rocking forward against Spencer, pressing his thigh up against Spencer's cock, and Spencer growls, pulling Brendon close and gripping his hips a little harder than he'd usually let himself, trying to keep Brendon still.

"Stop that," Spencer says, his voice coming out gruff.

"No," Brendon says against Spencer's lips, squirming around as much as he can on Spencer's lap. Brendon kisses him deeper, wetter, letting his teeth catch at Spencer's lip the way Spencer's specifically asked him not to.

Spencer groans, tipping his head back, ignoring the way Brendon's teeth pull at his lip, reluctant to let go, and definitely ignoring the way it makes his hips jump up, his cock digging into the soft flesh of Brendon's thigh.

Brendon gasps out, his mouth falling to Spencer's neck, wet and open, and Spencer groans when Brendon bites down on his throat, something sharp and dark flaring up inside of him. He grabs at Brendon's waist, pushing him down until Brendon is straddling Spencer's shins before he sits up, trying to get distance between them as Spencer bites hard into his own lip and comes, hot and sudden in his boxers.

Brendon's breathing hard, his eyes big and dark and his mouth open as he pants heavily. He smells fucking amazing, warm and sweet and strong, and it's all Spencer can smell when he breathes in.

"Hey," Brendon says, sliding back up Spencer's thigh. He hisses as he does and Spencer looks down, watching as Brendon's hips press forward against Spencer's thigh, his cock pressing against his briefs. "Don't-- I don't want to stop, Spence. Please?"

"Fuck," Spencer groans, tilting his head back and letting his eyes slip closed until Brendon starts to mouth at his neck again, his lips wet and hot over Spencer's skin. Spencer uses the hand still cupping the small of Brendon's back to press him closer again. Spencer isn't too surprised he's still completely hard, and when he leans forward and kisses softly at Brendon's neck, Brendon lets out a whine that makes something hot and impatient twist low in Spencer's belly.

"Just let me--" Brendon doesn't finish, his voice raspy as he keeps his head tilted back for Spencer's mouth. Spencer's fingers dig a little into Brendon's hips before he forces himself to ease up, because fuck. Brendon's rubbing against Spencer's thigh urgently now, the heat and the smell of his arousal thick and sweet in the air all around them. Spencer takes a deep breath and sucks at Brendon's skin, that dangerous heat flaring again when Brendon moans. Somewhere deep down, Spencer wants to switch their positions, wants to press Brendon down into the bed and fuck him. Spencer focuses, using all of his self-control to be content with squeezing at Brendon's hips instead, keeping his grip light as he pushes his thigh up to help Brendon with the friction.

"Yes, yes, please," Brendon whines, and Spencer can tell he's getting close just from the heat that flushes his skin and the way he smells, making Spencer dizzy from breathing it in.

"Come on," Spencer says, and he shouldn't. Brendon coming is too close to sex, especially since Spencer's about to come again himself. He can feel how close he is, his cock still throbbing like he didn't just come two minutes ago, and Spencer knows he's dangerously close to losing any control he had over this thing. He knows he should be scared, knows he should stop them, but he can't. Brendon is panting and whining and rocking down against Spencer's thigh, and Spencer just presses his face into Brendon's neck, squeezing Brendon's hip.

"Spencer, fuck," Brendon groans, and then his hips are jerking and he's coming in his underwear, stilling as his cock twitches from his orgasm.

Spencer can feel Brendon's come dripping through the slit in his briefs, and he growls low in his throat, petting at the damp skin at the small of Brendon's back and leaning down to kiss Brendon hard on the mouth. The smell is still there, even stronger now that Brendon's come, and god, Spencer just wants to taste Brendon.

Brendon whimpers into his mouth, his hips rocking forward again lazily when Spencer sucks at his tongue, and the smell flares up again. It's so much stronger like this, Brendon right there on his lap, his come soaking into his briefs, soaking into Spencer's thigh. Spencer can't help himself, he can't, even though this could fuck things up for them. He grabs Brendon firm around the waist and flips him, setting him down on the pillows before Brendon even has time to finish the surprised noise he starts.

"Please don't freak out," Spencer says in a rush, hovering over Brendon's body, and he doesn't wait for Brendon's response before he slides down and presses his face to the front of Brendon's underwear, breathing in deep. It's overwhelming, this close. The smell is in Spencer's nose, his throat, making him dizzy and breathless. All he can think about is Brendon, how good he smells, how good he feels, and he lets out a low, rough growl when Brendon squirms underneath him.

The slit in Brendon's briefs gapes open with the movement and Spencer moves closer on instinct, pressing his nose to the base of Brendon's cock and breathing in deep, mouthing at the wet fabric of Brendon's briefs, trying to take in as much of Brendon as he can.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps out, arching up a little, and Spencer groans against the fabric of Brendon's briefs, his hips jerking forward against the bed as he comes again. His mind is filled with jumbled images of sucking Brendon's cock into his mouth, fucking him, holding him down and making him Spencer's.

Spencer pulls away reluctantly when Brendon starts to shiver beneath him, and he realizes he's been sucking at the fabric of Brendon's underwear, pulling them tight over Brendon's sensitive cock. He flushes hotly and sits back on his heels, opening his mouth uselessly to try to explain.

"Jesus," Brendon says for him. "Spencer, fuck, is that, like-- is it a wolf thing?"

"You smell so good," Spencer says helplessly, collapsing on the pillows next to Brendon so he doesn't have to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, it's just, I can't-- I told you this was a bad idea."

"I don't see how this was anything but really fucking hot," Brendon says, rolling over and tucking himself into Spencer's side. "Fuck, Spencer, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that. Or how long I've wanted to return the favor," Brendon adds a moment later, sliding his hand down Spencer's stomach and brushing his fingers over the elastic waist of Spencer's boxers. "Come on, you can't tell me you don't want to come after that."

"Um," Spencer says, blushing furiously. "About that." He reaches out and grabs Brendon's hand, trapping it low against his belly and trying to ignore how he's still hard, how he could easily come again if he just let go of Brendon's hand.

"I kind of already did," Spencer says, squeezing his eyes shut. "Twice."

"Dude," Brendon says. "Dude, but you're still..." his hand twitches under Spencer's, like he wants to prove his point, but Spencer just squeezes tighter.

"I know," he says. "It's like a... thing. I really only figured it out a few days ago."

"Like a werewolf thing?" Brendon asks.

"Like a you thing," Spencer says, feeling his face heat up. "I'm pretty sure."

"Fuck," Brendon says, drawing his hand back and raising up on his elbows. "That's, like--" Spencer cracks one eye open slowly to see Brendon leaning down over him, his own eyes dark and sparkling. "So you could go again? Right now? Even though you came twice?"

"Yes," Spencer grits out, trying to ignore the way he can smell Brendon starting to get turned on again, fresh arousal washing over him in waves.

"And it's because of me? Why the hell have you been holding back on me, then?" Brendon asks with a grin. "Did you think I would find this anything but awesome?"

"You're fucking weird," Spencer says with a groan.

"Yeah, whatever," Brendon says with a shrug as he pushes closer to Spencer and straddles his thigh again. "What normal person dates a werewolf?"

"Are we dating, then?" Spencer asks quietly after a moment, dropping his hands to rest on Brendon's waist.

"Well, not in the actual 'going on dates' sense of the word," Brendon says, leaning down to rest his forehead against Spencer's shoulder. "But... yeah? If that's cool with you."

"That's cool with me," Spencer says, petting up and down Brendon's back. He feels a little bit like he's in 7th grade again, but mostly he's just relieved that the vague sense of possession that's been floating around in his head is at least a little less creepy.

Not by much, but it's still better than nothing.

-

Spencer's firm on separate showers afterward, but then Brendon comes out of the bathroom, his skin still flushed and a little damp from the hot water, and he crawls into Spencer's bed. Spencer wraps his arm around Brendon's waist and tugs him close before he even realizes what he's doing. "Wait, hey," he says. "Separate beds, remember?"

"Spencer," Brendon says with a sigh as he nuzzles into Spencer's neck. "Do you actually want to make me go get in my own bed right now?"

"No," Spencer admits. "You know I don't, but this is a bad idea." It is a bad idea. Brendon is soft and warm against him, his hair still just a little damp, and Spencer wants to pull him closer and closer until there's nowhere left to go, so he pulls his arm back from around Brendon's waist, just in case.

"Dude, I am so sleepy right now that I'm only like 60% sure I could actually get it up if I tried, okay? I promise not to take advantage of you in your sleep," Brendon says, tossing a leg over Spencer's and settling in, wrapping his own arm around Spencer's waist pointedly.

"It's not you I'm worried about," Spencer says under his breath.

"If you take advantage of me in my sleep, I'll just be disappointed that I missed it," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's chest. "Now come on, go to bed." Brendon drops a soft kiss to the middle of Spencer's chest, and Spencer gives in and settles his arms back around Brendon. Brendon's asleep almost instantly - a skill that Spencer seriously envies, for the record - and Spencer presses his nose into Brendon's hair and drifts off to sleep listening to him breathe.

-

Spencer takes advantage of Brendon in his sleep. Kind of. A little. To be fair, it's not like he meant to, but when Spencer wakes up from a dream about fucking Brendon on his hands and knees, with Spencer's nose buried in the short hair at Brendon's neck, he's kind of frantically humping Brendon's leg. It's not his proudest moment.

Brendon, though - Brendon has his cock halfway out of his briefs and is jerking himself off fast and rough, and Spencer's disoriented enough that it takes him a second to still his hips and say, "Wait. What?"

"You had your hand on my dick and you were humping my leg. What was I supposed to do, hit on you on the nose with a newspaper?" Brendon asks, his voice strained as his hand moves over his cock.

"Yes!" Spencer says. "Well, no, but fuck, Brendon. How is the answer to that situation jacking off?"

"How is it not," Brendon huffs, straining his hips up. "Now come on, I'm close, and you can apparently come as much as you want. Let's party."

"I cannot believe you just said 'let's party,'" Spencer says, as if that's the worst thing Brendon's done tonight. Or is doing currently.

"Spencer," Brendon says, his voice thin and rough, and Spencer takes a deep breath in, which, mistake. It's like all the smells he loves all at once - Brendon after a shower, after he's just woken up, when he's turned on - fighting for his attention. Spencer goes a little blank for a moment, breathing in deep, nostrils flaring, and before he's made a conscious decision he's up on his hands and knees, pressing himself over Brendon's body and trapping Brendon's hand between them.

Brendon gasps out and arches up underneath Spencer, and Spencer leans down and breathes in deep at the hollow of Brendon's throat, running his tongue across the skin there and tasting the faint sweat on Brendon's skin. "Spence, what--" Brendon starts, but he trails off into a moan when Spencer seals his lips over Brendon's throat and sucks, breathing in deep as Brendon's arousal spikes.

"Stay still," Spencer says, gruffly, moving back just far enough to grab Brendon's hand from between their bodies. He licks over it, tasting the traces of pre-come and making a low noise in his throat, before pressing both of Brendon's hands above his head. "I mean it," Spencer says, Brendon's arousal winning out over his own concerns. "You have to stay still, and if I go batshit just-- hit me, or something, I don't know. I'm going to try not to go batshit, I swear," Spencer says, staring down at Brendon's eyes in the dark.

"Yeah," Brendon says, swallowing heavily. "Yeah, okay."

Spencer holds onto Brendon's hands while he kisses beneath Brendon's ear, down the side of neck and back to the hollow of his throat, all the places where his scent is strongest. He can't resist letting his tongue drag against Brendon's skin, gathering the taste of him, and by the time he lets go of Brendon's wrists and makes his way down Brendon's neck to his chest, he's pretty much just lapping at Brendon's skin with his tongue. Spencer can't make himself stop, though - not unless Brendon tells him so, not when Brendon tastes just as good as he smells. Spencer thinks about tasting Brendon where the smell is strongest, about having Brendon's cock in his mouth, and heat swirls low in his stomach just thinking about it. Spencer wants to taste Brendon's come enough to risk losing control right now, and he's strangely okay with that. He's not sure if it's just a false sense of security or he's actually starting to trust himself with Brendon, but right now he really doesn't care, because he wants this more anything.

It's not like Brendon's complaining, anyway. He's mostly just breathing heavily and shaking beneath Spencer, his muscles straining with the effort of staying still. Spencer shifts back up on Brendon's body so he can get at his neck, his mouth, his ear. "You taste so good," Spencer says as he licks at Brendon's jaw. "I want to-- do you think you could stay still if I went down on you?" Spencer can't help it, he can't, he's pretty much wanted to have Brendon's dick in his mouth for weeks now, and it's too much, all this waiting.

Brendon lets out a low noise and nods, says, "Yes, I can totally, totally do that, oh my god."

Spencer laughs breathlessly into Brendon's ear and Brendon shivers, his hips arching under Spencer's. Which isn't staying still, but it's fucking hot, so Spencer's not really going to complain. "Yeah?" he asks into Brendon ear. Brendon doesn't answer, but Spencer can feel his face flush, can hear Brendon's heart start to beat even faster.

Spencer licks lightly around the edge of Brendon's ear, just to see, and Brendon moans out and wraps a leg around Spencer's, his foot digging in behind Spencer's knee for leverage as he tries to rub up against Spencer. Spencer sucks at Brendon's earlobe and risks biting down gently, mostly just a drag of his teeth, and Brendon cries out and tosses his head back, his body jerking as he bares his neck to Spencer.

Spencer's been doing well so far, but that does it, his wolf brain switching on despite his best efforts, and it is very, very pleased by this turn of events. Spencer buries his face in Brendon's neck, breathing in his smell and licking at him as he comes hot and sudden over Brendon's stomach.

"Jesus," Brendon says. "Spencer, fuck." He goes to raise his head and Spencer makes a low noise in his throat, reaching up to grab Brendon's hands again, making sure his grip is loose enough for Brendon to move if he needs to and sucking pointedly at the side of Brendon's neck so that he keeps his head tilted back, neck bared. Spencer knows his wolf brain is pretty fully engaged, and while part of him wants to make himself stop, to tell Brendon that this is too dangerous, the rest of him can't ignore the way Brendon's scent gets even stronger, heavy and hot in the air. Spencer's hips are still moving against Brendon's, his cock still hard and sliding over Brendon's belly where it's wet from Spencer's come.

And that, that is apparently also a very good thing. Spencer's kind of freaking out here. It's almost like losing his virginity all over again, finding out all sorts of new things that feel good, all the different things he likes. It's kind of fascinating, but he's much more concerned with the way his come smells on Brendon's skin than werewolf psychology right now.

"Still," Spencer says darkly as he lets go of Brendon's arms and moves down his body, dragging his nose through the sweat that's gathering on Brendon's chest on his way to Brendon's stomach. Spencer groans and breathes in deep, smelling himself on Brendon. He licks over Brendon's skin, and the taste of his come mixed with the taste of Brendon makes something hot and dark flare inside of him. He wants to nose at Brendon's stomach until he turns over, wants to fuck into Brendon until he's worn out and gasping and covered in Spencer's scent, and Spencer has to pull back. He sits back on his heels, breathing heavily and trying to clear his head until he can focus again, can remember why that is a very bad idea.

Brendon's still so hard, though, his cock still trapped halfway inside of his briefs, still spread out beneath Spencer with his hands above his head, his eyes wide and fixed on Spencer in the dark. He shudders and Spencer thinks he must realize what Spencer's doing, that he's smelling himself on Brendon. Spencer hates that he flushes a little, knowing he's being watched like this, but he pushes it from his mind when he moves back up Brendon's body. He presses some of his weight down over Brendon and Brendon chokes out a gasp, tilting his hips up underneath Spencer. Spencer can't stop thinking about how good Brendon smells, about how much Brendon wants to get off. Brendon tilts his head back against the pillows, baring his neck again for Spencer, and something dark and possessive rumbles up in Spencer's chest as he holds onto Brendon's arms, leaning down to kiss his throat. Spencer can feel the heat from Brendon's body, can hear his pulse thumping loud and fast, and he just barely drags his teeth over the flushed skin of Brendon's neck.

Brendon whines, a noise that Spencer feels as much as he hears. It interrupts the quick, shaky breaths Brendon's been taking as he pants, tilting his hips up again. Spencer kisses down to Brendon's collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin and then licking where Brendon's started to sweat. The sweet, hot smell of arousal is thick all around him, filling his senses as he holds himself up above Brendon.

"Spencer, please," Brendon finally whines, and Spencer huffs out a quick breath, moving down Brendon's body. He trails kisses over Brendon's chest, down to the soft curve of his stomach and his hips, down to the crease of his thigh. Spencer noses under the edge of Brendon's briefs before getting frustrated at himself for not taking them off yet, and at Brendon's underwear for existing in general. He yanks at them, going to pull them down Brendon's hips, and it's possible he's a little too zealous because he ends up with a handful of torn, green underwear.

"Spencer, I liked those," Brendon says.

"You have, like, seventy pairs," Spencer says, tossing them over his shoulder and leaning back to nose at Brendon's skin again. Brendon huffs, but he's still straining to stay still, his breathing still heavy, labored as his muscles twitch under Spencer's mouth. When Spencer finally gets to Brendon's cock, the scent is overwhelming, thick and sharp and filling Spencer's senses so much he's actually dizzy with it.

"You can touch me now," Spencer says, when he pulls back and sees Brendon's hand clenched into the pillows above his head. "It's okay, come on," Spencer says, and Brendon immediately lowers his arms and grabs at Spencer's shoulder with one hand, the other resting in his hair. It's a little comforting, knowing he'll be able to feel if Brendon wants him to stop, because Spencer's terrified of how much he wants this, how little control he has over himself.

Brendon's cock is flushed and warm, resting on his stomach, and Spencer licks slowly up the side, watching the way Brendon chews at his lip, feeling Brendon's fingers clutch desperately at Spencer's hair. "Yes," Brendon says, soft and encouraging, and Spencer is suddenly done with teasing. He keeps his hands on Brendon's thighs, keeping him spread open and pressed against the bed, and the angle is awkward but Spencer takes Brendon deep into his mouth anyway, sucking hard. Brendon's cock is thick and hot in his mouth, and Spencer pulls back a little, licking over the head where he can taste Brendon, heavy and strong on his tongue. Brendon tastes amazing and Spencer wants more, pressing his tongue to Brendon's slit and licking at him over and over. Brendon pulls hard at Spencer's hair, his hand digging into Spencer's shoulder, but he's still moaning, still whispering yes, so Spencer doesn't stop. Spencer doesn't know if he could stop, which is fucking scary, and it shocks him out of his head for a second.

Spencer pulls back, gasping, and buries his face in the crease of Brendon's thigh. Which isn't exactly the best place for calming down, but Brendon's scent is so familiar at this point that it's strangely comforting.

"Spencer," Brendon says, petting at his hair. "Spence, are you okay?"

Spencer nods, nuzzling his face against Brendon's skin for a minute, breathing deep. He can feel Brendon's thighs trembling and smell how turned on he is, how desperately close he is to coming. Spencer turns his face, nosing at the base of Brendon's cock just to get a better smell. Brendon starts to squirm, his hips twitching up, and he whines when Spencer sucks gently at the base of his cock, his hand tightening in Spencer's hair and pulling a little, trying to get Spencer's mouth back on his cock.

Spencer takes Brendon's cock back into his mouth, as far as he can, even when his eyes start to water and Brendon starts pleading, half-nonsense moans as his fingers flex in Spencer's hair. Spencer moans around Brendon at the taste, and Brendon's hips buck up. Spencer gags but doesn't let it stop him, even when Brendon tries to pull his hips back. The head of his cock slides over Spencer's tongue again, and the taste is even stronger now. Spencer wants, wants so much and he knows all he would have to do is reach down between his own legs right now and touch his cock and he could come again. He digs his fingers into the soft flesh of Brendon's thighs and keeps swallowing around Brendon until Brendon's just making noises, hands grabbing desperately at Spencer's hair as he moans, "Spence, please, I'm gonna--" Spencer keeps sucking hard, waiting.

Spencer can barely hear Brendon's warnings through the sound of his own pulse beating loudly in his ears, but then Brendon's cock jerks and he's coming over Spencer's tongue. Spencer pulls back and swallows, catching some on his lips before surging forward to suck at Brendon's cock again, until Brendon's done shuddering through his orgasm, gasping out sharply at Spencer's mouth still on him, too much, too soon. Brendon doesn't push Spencer's head away, though, just holds on tight to his hair and bucks beneath Spencer's mouth.

Spencer forces himself to pull back when Brendon starts whimpering a little, his fingers clenching in Spencer's hair like he can't decide if he wants to hold on or push Spencer back. Spencer gives Brendon's cock one last lick, making sure he's gotten all of Brendon's come, just in case, and it takes Spencer to a second to realize he's maybe being a creepy werewolf again. He pulls back a little sheepishly and looks up at Brendon, who's flushed red down to his chest, his hair dark and damp where it sticks to his forehead. All Spencer can smell is Brendon, his come and his sweat, and Spencer can't stop himself from nuzzling his face into the crease of Brendon's thigh again, breathing deep and feeling the way it makes Brendon shiver.

"Hey," Brendon says, panting, petting weakly at Spencer's head. "Hey, hey, your turn," Brendon says, tugging at his hair a little.

"Oh my god, you don't even have to do anything," Spencer says, lifting up on his elbows and pushing himself up Brendon's body. "Just, hey," he says, leaning down to kiss Brendon. Brendon groans a little and kisses Spencer, clinging to Spencer's back and arching up against him. Brendon lifts his legs up and wraps them around Spencer's and Spencer groans against Brendon's mouth and comes when Brendon's thigh brushes his cock.

"Oh my god," Brendon says, dropping his head back on the pillow. "Why do you refuse to let me touch your dick? Cocktease."

"Sorry," Spencer pants, burying his face in Brendon's neck and collapsing down on top of him. "Werewolf."

-

Spencer wakes up to Brendon poking him in the shoulder. "Hey," he says when Spencer cracks his eyes open. "Hey, we are disgusting, and we should go shower. Together this time."

"S'fine," Spencer grumbles, turning over and burying his face in Brendon's arm. He tries to ignore how their bodies were a little stuck together.

"No. Disgusting," Brendon says.

"You still smell good," Spencer says, nuzzling into Brendon's arm, tucking his nose into Brendon's armpit.

"Okay, you're disgusting, definitely," Brendon says, but he laughs when Spencer blows on his skin. "Up. Shower."

Brendon twists and cracks his back on the way to the bathroom, arching in a way that makes Spencer want to throw Brendon back onto the bed. Spencer follows begrudgingly, and when Brendon stops outside the shower to adjust the water, Spencer leans his forehead heavily into Brendon's shoulder.

"Come on, then," Brendon says, climbing into the shower and holding out a hand for Spencer. "Either we do this or I take you out back and hose you down."

"Funny," Spencer says sarcastically, stepping into the shower behind Brendon, his hands automatically moving to settle on Brendon's hips. He ducks his head to press his nose to Brendon's neck as the water pours down over them, steadily washing away the smell of Spencer's come on Brendon.

"Showers suck," Spencer mumbles, just loud enough for Brendon to hear him over the sound of the water. Brendon turns around, stepping back from the shower spray and grinning.

"Which is a cool opinion to have when you're five, but right now you need to get clean if you want to have more filthy sex." It's kind of a good point.

Brendon turns into the spray and Spencer presses back close, wrapping his arms around Brendon's middle. "While you're there, you can do my back," Brendon says, and Spencer drops his head back between Brendon's shoulder blades, instead, shaking his head.

Brendon laughs, squirming back against him and dropping his head back to Spencer's shoulder. "You're ridiculous," he says, his voice warm and happy. Spencer can smell Brendon starting to get turned on, even over the steam and the soap, and he presses a little closer, licking at the water that's falling down Brendon's back.

Brendon shifts, just a little, and all of a sudden Spencer's erection is pressed up tight against Brendon's ass, and Brendon makes a small sound, pressing back experimentally. And just like that, Spencer's awake. He is more than awake - he's alert and hard and having to make a conscious effort to keep from biting at the back of Brendon's neck.

"Brendon," he says warningly when Brendon keeps moving, pushing back with slow rolls of his hips. Spencer's going to make him stop, he really is, except that Brendon goes up on his tiptoes a little and braces his hands against the wall, and then Spencer's cock is pressed up against his hole and he can feel Brendon's thighs trembling and his ass clenching down against the head of Spencer's dick, and he backs up so quickly he almost slips and falls.

"Fuck," Spencer says, leaning back heavily against the wall. "I can't do this. Brendon, I can't--"

"So just fuck me already, then," Brendon says, turning around and moving toward Spencer. Spencer holds his hands out and grabs Brendon's arms, keeping him away, and Brendon sighs, tossing the washcloth he's still holding at Spencer's head. Kind of hard.

"Hey," Spencer says.

"Spence," Brendon says. His voice is soft and he's rubbing at Spencer's wrists with his thumbs, and Spencer meets his eyes even though he has a feeling it's going to be a bad idea. "Do you want to fuck me?"

"That's a stupid question," Spencer grumbles, glancing down at his dick, because. Obviously.

"Answer it anyway," Brendon says.

"Yes," Spencer sighs. "Yes, you know I do, but you don't understand, Brendon. I'm not kidding when I say I could hurt you. Like really, seriously hurt you. You don't understand how it feels, you can't."

Brendon pushes against his hands, trying to step closer, and Spencer lets him, sighing when Brendon presses himself to Spencer's chest, hugging him tight. "So what do we do, then?" he asks, his lips sliding over Spencer's collarbone. "You're going to be scared until we know what will happen, Spence," Brendon says. And it makes sense, Spencer knows it makes sense, but he can't stop worrying, can't stop remembering just how little he can control himself around Brendon.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Brendon asks, tipping his head back to look up at Spencer. Spencer wants to suck on his neck until he can feel the blood pounding beneath Brendon's skin.

"I could brutally murder you in a fit of passion," Spencer replies.

"Oh, is that all?" Brendon goes up on his tiptoes and kisses Spencer lightly, and Spencer's pretty sure he lets his belly drag along Spencer's cock on purpose when he drops back down. "Come wash my hair," Brendon tells him, turning back toward the water. "And tonight we're going to tie your hands to the bed and I'll do all the work. If you break the rope or the headboard and viciously kill me, you can say I told you so."

Spencer gapes at Brendon's back for a minute, because, wait, what.

-

Brendon's not kidding. Spencer knows Brendon is not kidding, because he keeps sidling up to Spencer while they're out in town, saying shit like, "I'm going to ride you, it's going to be awesome!" and "I can't wait until next time, when you can finger me yourself," and "Should I get the grey one or the blue one?" while holding up a shirt, and even that is hot, because he's going to fuck Brendon tonight. It's kind of all Spencer can think about, even later when they all pile into a booth because it was Ryan's turn to cook, and he chose to "cook dinner" at the Mexican place they hadn't tried yet on the main road.

Spencer makes it all the way through sangria and chips and guacamole before he acknowledges Brendon's hand on thigh, even with Ryan giving him looks that are equal parts amused and knowing. Spencer tries to halt Brendon's progress as he goes for Spencer's dick, but he doesn't quite make it. He chokes on a chip and bangs his knee into the top of the table when Brendon squeezes around him, and Brendon snorts loudly.

"Not at the table, have some manners," Ryan says archly, even though Spencer can hear the grin in his voice.

"What? What at the table, shut up," Spencer says a little hysterically. Brendon's still looking at him.

"Wow," Jon says. "Dude."

"What," Spencer says.

"Are you two going to fuck?" Ryan asks, raising an eyebrow.

"NO!" Spencer shouts, drawing the attention of the next table over. Brendon's gone, laughing so hard he's shaking and burying his face in Spencer's shoulder.

"Just don't do it here," Jon says, looking at Spencer warily. "I got empanadas, Spencer. Don't fuck in front of the empanadas."

Brendon manages to get his hand free while Spencer's distracted being mortified, and he slides it right back up Spencer's thigh, rubbing little circles. Spencer hangs his head and says, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck I hate you all."

"... So, we good here?" their waitress asks hesitantly, and when Spencer's head shoots up she's giving him a weird, sideways look.

Ryan and Jon are too busy snickering, so Brendon assures her they're good to go and keeps rubbing at Spencer's thigh, his hand inching a little higher every now and then. Spencer almost cries with relief when their food comes and Brendon mostly ignores systematically torturing him in favor of eating his fajitas. It's not until Spencer's polished off two shrimp and steak platters and a sundae for dessert that Brendon groans and collapses against his shoulder.

"That was so good," he moans, arching up in the booth and stretching, and Spencer's so distracted he barely even processes Ryan's attempt to get someone to help him with the check.

"Nope," he says when Ryan finally gets his attention. "You should have cooked. That's why we cook. So we don't have to pay the huge bills that come with buying dinner for assholes."

Brendon laughs and drops his head to Spencer's shoulder, turning in the booth until he's practically on top of Spencer.

"That's it," Ryan says, handing his credit card to their waitress. "I am separating you two on the way home. I don't want to be witness to your car sex."

"Ryan is delicate," Jon says, scooping up the entire pile of peppermints their waitress left on the table. "You can't offend his sensibilities."

"Well that just sounds like a challenge," Brendon says, letting his body go lax until he starts slipping under the table.

"Oh god, no," Ryan says, at the same time Spencer makes a distressed noise and yanks Brendon up by his arm as gently as possible.

"Oh, relax," Brendon says. "I wasn't really going to blow you under the table."

"... Okay, well, have a nice night!" their waitress says stiffly, dropping Ryan's card and receipt on the table before hurrying away.

"I can't take you anywhere," Ryan grumbles to himself.

-

True to his word, Ryan separates them on the ride home. It's a little relieving, actually. Spencer sits by the window and rolls it down, distracting himself with the different smells and sounds that go flying by outside of the car window. It's not that he doesn't want to have sex - of course he does, it's almost all he thinks about. Even more than usual. But Spencer can't help feeling like he's going to find some way to fuck this up, like it's just not possible for him to control himself enough not to hurt Brendon. He's nervous and just a little fucking terrified and, worst of all, he really, really wants Brendon.

Spencer can do this. He totally can. As long as Brendon wasn't kidding about the bondage thing.


	4. Chapter Four

"I'm going to watch TV now," Ryan announces when they get into the cabin, putting their leftovers away. "Very loudly. So if certain other people wanted to do something loudly, they could go ahead and do that."

"Yeah, TV, that sounds awesome!" Brendon says, following Ryan into the living room. Spencer follows slowly after Brendon to the love seat, resisting the urge to pull Brendon aside and ask him what the actual fuck is wrong with him. Possibly Spencer is more impatient than he is nervous. Brendon flops down on the couch, looking up at Spencer with a grin as Ryan flips through channels, and if Spencer didn't know any better he'd guess Brendon was doing this intentionally. But actually, knowing Brendon, it probably is intentional. Fucker.

"We're watching America's Next Top Model. And there's, like, nine girls left. So it's going to be a while," Ryan says pointedly.

"Right, I'm going to need beer for this," Jon says, getting up to go back to the kitchen. Brendon settles into Spencer's side after he sits down, leaning his head on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer's almost taken aback by the smell of Brendon's arousal when it hits him. Brendon is really turned on, his cheek warm through Spencer's sleeve. Spencer's been hard all day, which is nothing new lately, but he's been hard with a purpose this time, and that purpose was sex. Not modeling reality shows. Besides, he's already seen this entire cycle and he's still pissed that Bree didn't win, so he doesn't want to sit through this again when he could be having sex. Like, right now. With Brendon.

"Hey," Spencer says quietly once the girls start screaming over a challenge win. "What's up with this?"

"Kyle won the challenge so she gets to take two friends with her to the spa," Brendon says, his eyes glued to the screen.

"That's not what I-- oh, fuck this," Spencer says, standing up. "I'm going to bed," he adds, looking at Brendon. "So that's where I'll be."

"That was seriously subtle, Spencer," Ryan calls up the stairs after him. "I don't know if Brendon's going to be able to crack your devious code!"

"I'm going to crack your face," Spencer can hear Brendon say as he closes the door to their bedroom and slumps back against it. Seriously, Brendon is insane. And possibly a sadist

There's a tentative knock and Spencer steps back, opening the door for Brendon.

"Hi," Brendon says, grinning sheepishly and smelling no less turned on than before. "I figured it out. I thought I was being inconspicuous. I had a plan."

"Ryan was giving us an out, idiot," Spencer replies, reaching forward to pull Brendon into the room. He leans down and kisses Brendon slowly, and any nervousness seems to get pushed aside as Brendon opens his mouth and kisses back, hard, his body straining up toward Spencer's.

"We have a bed," Spencer says between kisses, but he's finding it more and more difficult to pull away from Brendon, to not chase his lips and kiss him again. "We both have beds. We should--"

"We should shut the door first," Brendon says, laughing a little as he pulls back. "And let's use your bed. The headboard will work better."

"Better for--" Spencer cuts himself off when he realizes, and then, to his horror, he starts blushing. "Oh, right."

"That still the plan?" Brendon asks, walking back to Spencer once he's shut the door.

"Yeah," Spencer says, too quickly. "Totally the plan. I'm all about the plan."

Brendon laughs and goes up on his tiptoes, kissing Spencer just long enough for Spencer to press into it before pulling away. "So when are we doing this?"

"Now," Spencer says vehemently, trying to follow Brendon's mouth.

"I meant the tying you up part," Brendon says, rummaging around under his bed. His ass looks spectacular, so Spencer grabs it, and that is not his fault. Brendon squeaks and goes off balance for a second before straightening back up holding rope.

"You have rope under your bed?" Spencer asks.

"I stole it from the shed," Brendon says, shrugging. "Don't worry, it's coated, so it won't be super abrasive. I did some research."

"Yeah?" Spencer asks, moving forward and taking the rope out of Brendon's hands.

"Yeah," Brendon breathes against his mouth. "I am totally prepared."

"After," Spencer says, breathing in deep and tossing the rope on the nightstand. "We tie me up after you're very, very naked and I have touched you a lot."

Brendon laughs, bright and pleased, and tugs at the front of Spencer's shirt, pulling him down onto the bed. "I can work with that," he says as he pulls off his t-shirt. "That sounds like a plan."

"Yeah," Spencer agrees, but he's not even remotely paying attention anymore. Brendon's shirtless and reaching for his jeans, and Spencer smacks his hands away, undoing the zipper for him and dragging the jeans down Brendon's legs.

There's just so much skin. The smell is even stronger like this and Spencer's dizzy with it, already leaning down to suck at Brendon's hip when Brendon laughs, pushing at Spencer's head.

"Nuh uh, not yet. You're still wearing way too much, in case you forgot."

"But this is important," Spencer almost whines, grabbing at Brendon's hips and trying to pull him close. Brendon laughs again, surging forward to kiss Spencer, his teeth catching at Spencer's bottom lip and then his tongue licking over it soothingly, apologetically.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die," Spencer groans as he peels off his shirt, then his own pants. Brendon watches him the whole time, his eyes a little darker than before.

"You're not going to die, Spencer." Brendon scoots forward after Spencer has kicked off his pants, both of them still in their underwear. He reaches forward and touches the back of Spencer's head, pulling his face close, down near Brendon's. "You can't die, because then there will be no one to fuck me, and that would seriously suck."

"It would be a serious fucking shame," Spencer says, talking against Brendon's lips and reaching down to grab at Brendon's ass, cupping him through his briefs.

"Mmhmm," Brendon agrees, and then he's surging forward, kissing Spencer so hard their teeth clack together. Spencer pulls him in closer immediately, turning on his back and pulling Brendon on top of him, tilting his head back so he can kiss Brendon more deeply. Brendon makes a small noise in the back of his throat and presses closer, burying his hands in Spencer's hair. Brendon tries to hold his weight up on his elbows, but Spencer pushes at his back, pulls him down until he's fully on top of Spencer, pressing him into the mattress. He likes being able to feel Brendon, warm and everywhere, skin against skin.

Brendon is kissing him desperately, making little noises low in his throat that go straight to Spencer's cock. It doesn't help that he starts wiggling his hips down, seeking friction for his own cock.

"Fuck, Brendon," Spencer breathes out, holding Brendon tighter to his body, his hands skimming back down over Brendon's ass.

"Yes, excellent plan," Brendon replies, moaning into Spencer's mouth, kissing hard enough to bruise. Spencer slides his hand up and tugs lightly at Brendon's hair, waiting until he eases up to lick over Brendon's lips, kissing him softly, tasting. He can feel the tension under Brendon's skin like he's buzzing with it, can smell how close Brendon's getting just from working his hips against Spencer's. Once Spencer smells pre-come in the air, he has to pull back from Brendon's mouth, gasping and rolling over to switch their positions.

"Wha?" Brendon says, blinking up at Spencer in confusion, his eyes still all dark and hungry. "What are--"

"Hold still, Brendon," Spencer says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out too rough. He expects Brendon to say something, or at least keep wiggling, but instead Brendon relaxes underneath Spencer.

Spencer takes a deep breath (which doesn't actually help much, with the way Brendon's arousal is still thick in the air) and tucks his nose into Brendon's neck, nuzzling a little before he opens his mouth.

The second Spencer's tongue touches Brendon's skin, Brendon starts squirming, a whine escaping his throat. Spencer touches the inside of Brendon's wrist.

"I mean it, keep still."

"But I'm--"

"Horny as fuck, yeah, I got that," Spencer breathes out against Brendon's neck, his lips skimming down over Brendon's throat. Brendon makes a tiny noise of distress but then he's quiet and still underneath Spencer, only shivering or straining up a little when Spencer sucks particularly hard at Brendon's skin.

Now that Spencer has Brendon spread out underneath him like this - now that Spencer's allowed - he takes his time trailing his lips down the hollow of Brendon's throat, where the skin is already a little saltier and damp with sweat, where his pulse is beating fast under his skin. Spencer touches Brendon's wrists softly and brings them up above his head, liking the way it makes Brendon shudder and makes a fresh wave of arousal pour off him.

Spencer kisses down Brendon's chest, stopping to suck at both of Brendon's nipples until they're wet, hard points and Brendon is breathing loudly through his nose, trying to keep still, his arms still above his head. Spencer continues down to Brendon's stomach, where his muscles jump so easily with each breath he takes, and Spencer looks up to catch Brendon's eye when he sucks hickeys onto Brendon's hips.

"Weirdest fixation ever," Brendon gasps as he squirms beneath Spencer, his hips arching in time with the way Spencer sucks on his skin.

"I can see you're complaining," Spencer says, moving a hand to rest low on Brendon's belly, his fingertips barely brushing the head of Brendon's cock.

Brendon gasps and twists his hips harder, trying to press up into Spencer's hand, and Spencer grins and swats at Brendon's hip. "Not done yet," he says, because he's not. There's still way too much of Brendon he hasn't tasted, and just in case he fucks this up in a major way, he is not going to blow his chance. Brendon groans but goes still when Spencer squeezes at his hips before trailing his mouth down the soft skin of Brendon's thighs. He nuzzles into the crease of Brendon's thigh before going lower, sucking marks into the tender skin on the inside of his thighs. Brendon's skin bruises even more easily here than it does on his hips, and Spencer growls low in his throat when he pulls back and looks at the red marks already forming on Brendon's skin.

Brendon's hips buck up at the noise, and he reaches a hand down to grab at Spencer's hair, tugging. "Spence," he says, a whine in his voice. "Come on, please, you have no idea how good that feels."

"Yes I do," Spencer says darkly, lifting his head so he can meet Brendon's eyes. "Because I can smell how good it feels, how much you want it. Fuck, you can't even imagine," he groans, dropping his head to kiss at Brendon's cock through his briefs, mouthing at it for a second just to feel Brendon squirm. He can't hold out for long, though, not this close to Brendon's cock and the smell of pre-come, and he fits his mouth over the head of Brendon's cock through his underwear and sucks, licking at the fabric to get at the taste of him.

"Shit," Brendon yelps, bringing his other hand down and holding onto Spencer's hair, tight, while his hips jerk up. "Spencer, please, I can't--"

"I know," Spencer says, pulling back with a groan and dropping his head to Brendon's hip. Brendon is seriously close to coming. Spencer knows it, but he lets himself suck at the fabric of Brendon's underwear one last time before he drops his head back down, kissing down Brendon's thigh.

"I didn't mean to stop, oh my god," Brendon groans, letting go of Spencer's hair so he can keep trailing his mouth down. Spencer just shrugs between Brendon's legs and kisses at the back of his knee, licking at the sweat gathered there. Brendon's smell is strong there, fixated like it is at his neck and his throat, and Spencer breathes in deep, catching himself right before he scrapes his teeth across the soft skin. No biting. Teeth are bad. Werewolf.

He tries to keep it in his head as he kisses down Brendon's calf and at the bone of his ankle, even though he wants to nip at the bottoms of Brendon's feet and watch him squirm.

"Spencer," Brendon says desperately. "Spencer, look, those are my feet. There's nowhere else to go. You're done."

Spencer grins at him, kissing at Brendon's toes mostly just to be a dick, but he doesn't miss the way Brendon gasps and squirms. "Noted," he says, sitting back on his knees. "Now take off your underwear."

Brendon nearly kicks Spencer in the face in his rush to wiggle out of his briefs, and when he manages to get them off, Spencer's pretty sure he knocks over the lamp when he flings them blindly across the room. Spencer can hear the TV volume go up a notch or two.

"Okay, okay," Brendon says, panting a little as he lies back down on the pillows. "Spencer, I'm naked now."

"I know," Spencer says, staring at Brendon's cock completely unashamedly. "Now turn over."

"I-- what? No," Brendon says, confused. "No, but it's time for sex. I took off my underwear."

"Turn over," Spencer says again, and he's not asking this time. He takes a second to rein himself in as Brendon turns over with a huff, falling down spread-eagle. Spencer doesn't give him much time to adjust, pressing himself along Brendon's back and groaning into the nape of his neck when Spencer's cock brushes over the curve of Brendon's ass.

Spencer presses his weight down on Brendon carefully - just enough to hold him down so he can't squirm, but not enough to crush him - and then proceeds to take a ridiculously long time mouthing at the back of Brendon's neck and behind his ears. He has to resist the urge to bite down on the muscle in Brendon's shoulder, so he compensates by letting his teeth scrape gently across Brendon's spine as he licks a line down Brendon's back. Brendon's covered in sweat now, and Spencer can't even think about how gross this should be as he laps at the small of Brendon's back, sucking the skin there into his mouth and holding Brendon's hips to the bed.

Spencer gets kind of distracted tracing the dimples right above Brendon's ass with his tongue, and it's not until Brendon lets out a noise that sounds more like a sob than a groan that Spencer snaps out of it. Brendon is all he can smell, all he can taste, and Spencer presses his cock down into the mattress, trying to hold back. He doesn't want to come until he's inside Brendon, even if he can go more than once. It seems stupidly wasteful, and Spencer's so distracted by Brendon's smell, his taste, that he's a little surprised when Brendon lets out a low, guttural noise when Spencer spreads him open and licks over his hole.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps, his entire body going rigid. "Spencer, what are-- you don't have to do that, what are you doing?"

Spencer can feel how tense Brendon is under his hands, and he rubs at the small of Brendon's back with his thumbs. "Want to," Spencer says, taking in the way Brendon shivers when his breath brushes over Brendon's wet skin, where Spencer's still holding him open.

"No, but," Brendon says, trying to shift his hips forward and shift his ass away from Spencer. "I've never, no one's--"

"Oh," Spencer says, a flare of possession twisting in his gut. It's making him stupidly hot that no one's ever done this to Brendon before, that this is his. He leans back down and licks at Brendon again, soft and teasing, until Brendon starts to relax under his hands, starts to push back against his mouth. Spencer licks harder, long stripes up over Brendon's hole, and Brendon chokes back a moan, spreading his legs open wider underneath Spencer, still pressing back.

"Please," Brendon whines, and it makes the heat course through Spencer, makes the air around them thick and heavy with Brendon's arousal. Spencer was mostly hoping Brendon wouldn't freak out, but now as he starts to press his tongue inside, just the tip, Brendon's not hiding how much he's into this. Spencer uses his hands to hold Brendon open instead of rubbing at his back, and Brendon whines louder, working his ass back on Spencer's tongue, trying to take him deeper already. Spencer pulls back to swallow and then surges forward to lick harder, curling his tongue and pressing it in as deep as it'll go. Brendon's so tight, but he gasps out and arches, his hands clawing at the sheets at the pressure of Spencer's tongue inside.

Spencer wants to keep licking, letting his teeth scrape over the curve of Brendon's ass for a second before turning his attention back to licking Brendon open, but also. Fuck, Brendon is about ten seconds away from coming.

"Holy shit," Spencer groans when he pulls back, reaching down to squeeze hard at the base of Brendon's cock. Brendon cries out, almost shaking when Spencer kisses the back of Brendon's thigh and sits back up.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, panting a little. "I got carried away."

"I-- you-- yeah," Brendon says, twisting around so he can stare at Spencer. "Please tell me it's time for sex," Brendon says, and Spencer can't help but lean down and lick at the head of Brendon's cock, gathering the pre-come on his tongue. "Spencer," Brendon whines, his hands clenching in the sheets.

"Shit, shit, sorry," Spencer says. "You should probably tie me up. Like, now."

"Yeah," Brendon says, scrambling off the bed and grabbing for the rope. "I can absolutely do that, get comfortable on the pillows."

Spencer settles in, sticking a pillow behind his head and his back, and then he uses his time to stare at Brendon as he unravels the rope, making a complicated-looking loop. Brendon's still flushed, his eyes big and dark, and his cock is so flushed and swollen Spencer can almost taste it. He has to grab onto the headboard to keep himself from getting up and dropping to his knees in front of Brendon. Fuck, even if Brendon came now, came in his mouth, Spencer's sure he could fuck Brendon long enough to get him hard again. He's about to suggest it when Brendon walks over and straddles his chest, leaning up to slip the loops at either end of the rope around Spencer's hands. Brendon's cock is right there, wet and bobbing in front of his face, and Spencer strains forward until he pulls Brendon off balance trying to get a taste.

"Spencer," Brendon says. "At least pretend you couldn't break out of these. I don't even have them tied yet."

"Fuck, yeah, sorry," Spencer gasps, dropping his head to the pillow and breathing as shallowly as he can until Brendon moves back. Spencer tugs a little, and the ropes are knotted pretty securely, looped around the posts of the headboard. Spencer feels like it would at least take some effort to get free, and it does help to calm him down a little. He feels open like this, and less in control.

"You did good," Spencer says. "Where'd you learn this?"

"Mostly boy scouts," Brendon says with a grin. "But also I watched a very helpful video on YouTube."

Spencer grins, and Brendon starts to laugh. Spencer can't take his eyes off of Brendon, the lean lines of his body, the curves of his hips, the way his mouth stretches open bright and wide when he laughs. He's staring, and Brendon must feel it, trailing off and starting to blush and shuffle his feet next to the bed.

"So," Brendon says after a second. "Should I just..."

"Get the lube and face me," Spencer says immediately. "I want to watch."

"I-- okay," Brendon says, hurrying across the room to his nightstand and coming back with the lube clutched in slightly shaky hands. He hesitates near the bed and Spencer tugs at the ropes, wanting to reach out for him.

"By my feet, Brendon," Spencer says, keeping his voice even. Brendon crawls onto the bed and turns his back toward Spencer, spreading his legs a little and reaching to uncap the lube. And as much as Spencer is really, really appreciating the view, he stops him, says, "No, turn around. Face me, Brendon. I want to see."

When Brendon turns toward Spencer he's blushing, but he settles himself between Spencer's spread legs and leans back against the foot of the bed. Brendon spreads his own legs over Spencer's, and Spencer takes in the view as Brendon tilts his hips up. "This would have been easier the other way," Brendon says, blushing as he reaches for the lube.

"I like seeing your face," Spencer says, trying to shrug and wincing when his shoulders pull.

"I feel ridiculous," Brendon says, reaching down between his legs when his fingers are covered in lube. "You're not allowed to laugh."

Spencer licks his lips, watching closely as Brendon's fingers rub wet circles around his rim before he starts to push two of them inside at once. "Brendon. Brendon, shit, I'm not going to laugh," Spencer whines, his fingers itching with the need to grab at Brendon's ankles, to touch some part of him.

Brendon's eyes slip shut for a few seconds as he's pressing his fingers in. He spreads his legs wider over Spencer's calves and tilts his hips up higher, his fingers sinking a little deeper. His face is all scrunched up in concentration and even with the lube and Spencer's tongue, Brendon still looks so tight where he's stretched around his fingers. Spencer engages his werewolf brain for a second and almost growls just thinking about it, about burying himself as deep into Brendon as he can and just staying there, feeling Brendon squeeze around him.

Brendon starts to work his fingers in and out, his hips moving with them, and he adds a little more lube before he tucks in a third finger, groaning low in his throat.

Spencer whines, he can't help it, and Brendon looks up at Spencer, his eyes dark and wide as he works the three fingers inside himself.

"Sorry, it's been a while," Brendon says sheepishly, wiggling his fingers in even deeper, and Spencer thinks he could probably come right now if Brendon just breathed on his cock. Brendon shifts on the bed and groans, throwing his head back and jerking his hips forward against his fingers. Spencer can smell how turned on he is, how his arousal spikes sudden and hard, and then Brendon gasps and stills his hips. "Fuck, fuck," he says desperately. "Spence, can we?"

Which, fucking yes. "Come here," Spencer says, his entire body straining forward toward Brendon. "Come here, come on, fuck."

"Wait," Brendon says, twitching as he pulls his fingers out. "Wait, I forgot a condom, fuck."

"Um," Spencer says. "We could just... not." It's possible that Spencer hadn't even considered it, and he feels a little guilty but mostly desperately hopeful that Brendon will say yes. "I mean," he hurries out, "I'm clean, I got tested right after the werewolf thing."

"Oh," Brendon says, his mouth hanging open a little. "I don't know if-- I mean, I haven't been..." Brendon trails off, blushing, and Spencer kind of wants to die. Spencer knows Brendon's clean. Spencer can taste the hormones in the meat he eats and he knows when the milk's gone bad about three days before any of the rest of them. He can't eat sour cream or yogurt anymore because all he can taste is the bacteria, but he can't just come out and say, "If you had an STD I would know because your come would taste disgusting." It's not exactly polite.

"You're-- I would have known," Spencer says, squeezing his eyes shut. "When I-- I swallowed, and I would have been able to tell," he says awkwardly, desperately hoping that Brendon will get the picture.

"Oh," Brendon says, blushing. "That's--"

"Really weird and kind of gross?" Spencer asks, letting his head fall back against the pillows with a groan. "This was a bad idea. You should untie me so I can go throw myself off a cliff."

"Because that's not an overreaction," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. He pets at Spencer's ankle awkwardly, trailing his fingers over the top of Spencer's foot. Spencer's entire body tenses up just from the light touch, his hips pressing up helplessly into the air.

"Jesus," Brendon says. "It's so-- the way you react to everything, it just makes me want to--"

"Yes," Spencer says, cutting Brendon off. "Yes, Brendon, fuck, please. I want to-- please."

"You didn't even let me say what I wanted to do," Brendon says, grinning, his fingers sliding purposefully over the arch of Spencer's foot while Brendon watches Spencer's face, his eyes going heavy when Spencer twitches and whines, low in his throat.

"Brendon," Spencer groans out. "Now." Brendon nods shakily and scoots up on the bed, settling himself over Spencer's lap. Spencer's cock brushes up against Brendon where he's open and wet, and he groans, gritting his teeth in an effort to keep from thrusting up and trying to get inside. Brendon's looking down at him with dark, intense eyes and Spencer strains against the ropes, his fingers clenching.

"Come here," he says again, straining up against Brendon. "Come here, just--" Brendon gets the message and leans down, opening his mouth over Spencer's and letting Spencer kiss him deep and wet.

Spencer strains against the ropes again, and he's starting to feel them dig in, but he can't bring himself to care. He just wants to be closer. Brendon smells amazing, and his cock is rubbing against Spencer's stomach, spreading pre-come that's only driving Spencer crazier.

Spencer sucks on Brendon's bottom lip, trying to get him closer just by that, and Brendon groans and rolls his hips down, his ass sliding along Spencer's cock. Spencer can't help it - he really, honestly can't - and he groans deep as he comes, his cock jerking behind Brendon, his come dripping down Brendon's ass.

"Fuck," Brendon breathes out against his mouth. "Spencer, fuck, are you-- can we still?" Brendon's still rocking his hips, Spencer's cock sliding against his ass freely now with his come making everything even more slick.

"Yes," Spencer breathes out fervently. He's still hard, and Brendon is right there. Spencer would give anything to have his hands free right now so he could just pick Brendon up and set him down where he wants him. "Brendon, please."

Brendon nods and bites his lip, his eyes trained entirely on Spencer as he reaches back and grabs Spencer's cock, lining him up.

Spencer holds his breath as Brendon slowly starts to sink down, the head of Spencer's cock pressing and pressing until finally it pushes in, sinking in slickly with the help of the lube and come. Brendon goes slow the rest of the way, groaning and grabbing a little at Spencer's chest until Spencer bottoms out.

Spencer finally remembers to breathe when he starts to feel dizzy, because fuck, Brendon's so tight, tight and hot and it's almost too much for him to handle. Brendon's trying to relax, Spencer can tell, but he keeps tensing and squeezing and staying still. Spencer strains up a little, wanting nothing more than to snap his hips up and fuck Brendon. Hard.

"Brendon," Spencer finally grits out, trying very hard not to destroy the headboard in an effort to get the use of his hands back. "Brendon, fuck."

"Yeah, shit, no kidding," Brendon gasps out, tilting his head forward and bracing his hands on Spencer's chest as he starts to work himself up and down, his breath hitching every time he sinks back down fully onto Spencer's cock. He eventually picks up a rhythm, and Spencer's grateful even if he still wants to hold Brendon down and thrust into him hard.

Brendon starts fucking himself on Spencer's cock faster, dropping his hips down, and it's good, it's so good. He stops and starts clenching around Spencer's cock where it's pressed inside, just sort of rocking back and forth in Spencer's lap, grinding his hips down. He looks so hot, moving in Spencer's lap like that, but it's just a tease of what Spencer really wants, what Spencer's been waiting for.

"Brendon, Brendon, fuck," Spencer whines, watching as Brendon reaches down to touch his own cock, and his arousal just spikes. Spencer thinks briefly that he's going to die like this, but at least he appreciates what an awesome death it will be.

Spencer strains against the ropes, desperate to touch, and only stops when he hears the headboard actually creak a little. Ryan will kill him if they lose the security deposit, and oh god, now is not the time to be thinking about Ryan. Spencer chokes out a laugh and then Brendon leans forward and kisses Spencer sudden and desperate, panting into his mouth as he works his hips slowly, Spencer's cock dragging inside of him.

"Brendon," Spencer says hopefully.

"I can't--" Brendon gasps, stilling in Spencer's lap and just clenching around him again. "I can't even--" Brendon's thighs are shaking and his eyes are a little glassy.

"Brendon," Spencer groans, arching up as hard as he can and still only managing to press a little deeper inside. "Brendon, I'm good," he says, frantic. "I'm good, can we untie me? I can do it, I swear I can," he babbles, clenching his fists so hard his hands are starting to ache.

"Are you sure?" Brendon asks. "It is going to be a total bonerkill if you murder me."

"I promise," Spencer says. "I swear I will not kill you." And it's true - all Spencer can think about is having Brendon, fucking him, but there's no aggression behind it. Spencer knows he's capable of being dangerous, of being too rough, but he also knows he cares about Brendon too much to lose control right now.

"Well, now that that's settled," Brendon gasps, leaning forward and trying to undo the knots in the rope without moving off of Spencer's cock. Spencer's pretty impressed when he manages, but he's mostly concerned with getting his hands on Brendon.

"C'mere, come here," Spencer says, pulling Brendon down on top him and immediately planting his feet on the bed so he can thrust up.

"Oh, fuck," Brendon says, dropping his head to Spencer's chest and clutching at his shoulders. "That is a good idea, right there."

"Yes, yes," Spencer babbles, his hands sliding down to hold tightly to Brendon's hips, helping to keep him still as Spencer snaps his hips up.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps out, his moans almost drowning out the sound of Spencer's hips slapping up against Brendon every time he thrusts. "Shit, please, I can't--"

"I know, I know." And fuck, does Spencer know. Brendon's arousal is pouring off him in waves, he's so close.

Spencer's reaching for Brendon's cock to jerk him off when Brendon whines desperately and bites down on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer snaps his hips up with a surprised groan as he comes, hard and sudden, buried deep inside Brendon.

"Spencer," Brendon moans into Spencer's shoulder, slowly working his hips back and grinding himself on Spencer's cock. It feels like too much but still not enough, the friction on his cock while he's still coming down from his orgasm. "Holy shit, I can feel it."

"C'mon, c'mon," Spencer growls, his whole body still loose and buzzing from his orgasm as he snaps his hips up, his cock still hard as he fucks Brendon, the slide made slicker from his own come. He gets his hand around Brendon's cock, and Brendon doesn't last much longer after that.

Brendon bites at Spencer's shoulder again when he comes, moaning and pushing back hard onto Spencer's cock. The flare of pain and the smell of Brendon as he comes over Spencer's hand is almost enough for Spencer to come again, but he holds off. He's too focused on Brendon now, on the way Brendon's body shakes as he comes and the way he starts to whimper from Spencer's hand still on his cock.

Spencer lets go of Brendon's cock and doesn't think about it before he's bringing his hand up to his face, sucking his fingers into his mouth and tasting Brendon's come. He doesn't even worry about going too far, that Brendon may find it kind of gross. All Spencer can think about is getting another taste of Brendon.

"Spencer. Spencer, fuck," Brendon says, his voice rough, and Spencer opens his eyes to find Brendon staring at him.

"Um. Sorry," Spencer tries, but Brendon's already leaning down and kissing Spencer hard on the mouth, his tongue pressing at Spencer's lips. It's so filthy that Spencer can't help the soft, growling noise he makes low in his throat, or the way he reaches down while they're kissing to rub where his cock is still pressed deep inside Brendon. Brendon clenches down automatically and kisses harder, his teeth catching at Spencer's bottom lip. Spencer keeps touching at Brendon as they kiss, petting at him and trying not to start thrusting up again when he feels his own come sliding down his cock. Brendon starts to whimper a little then, his hips twitching away, and Spencer pulls his hand away reluctantly, sucking his fingers back into his mouth before reaching out and petting at Brendon's hair.

"Sorry," he says.

"No, it's just-- a lot," Brendon says, his voice strained. "You're still hard and it's--" Brendon sounds overwhelmed, his eyes wide, and Spencer pulls him close and carefully turns them over. He holds Brendon to his body until he can lay him down against the pillows and pull out slowly. Brendon grunts a little when Spencer slips out, and Spencer really doesn't mean to, but his fingers go immediately back to Brendon's hole, touching over him lightly where he's still open and wet with Spencer's come.

Spencer can smell them in the air - Brendon's come, and his, and the way his come smells inside of Brendon - and before he even realizes what he's doing, he bends down and licks over Brendon, pressing his tongue inside of Brendon, chasing the taste.

"Oh my god," Brendon groans, grabbing a handful of Spencer's hair and pulling his head up. "Fuck, no more. I can't. I'm happy for you and your perma-boner and all, and I plan to take full advantage of it, but oh my god, Spencer."

Spencer pulls away reluctantly and presses in against Brendon's side, burrowing down until he's got Brendon wrapped up in his arms and legs, his nose pressed behind Brendon's ear. "See?" Brendon says sleepily, "You didn't kill me. But now you're going to have to carry me to the shower."

"No," Spencer says, pulling Brendon even closer. "No showers. You smell so good."

"I smell like jizz and sweat, Spencer," Brendon says, squirming around a little until he's settled in more comfortably against Spencer.

"I know," Spencer says, breathing in deep. "It's awesome."

Brendon laughs, but Spencer can tell he's almost out, his breathing evening out and his heart rate slowing down as he drops a kiss on top of Spencer's hand. His ass is pressed into Spencer's lap and Spencer makes a very deliberate effort not to move his hips at all. "Don't," Brendon says. "Go to sleep, Spencer. We can have more sex in the morning."

Spencer grins and kisses behind Brendon's ear, reaching down for the sheet that's twisted up at the end of the bed and pulling it up over them, because that sounds like a plan.

-

Waking up pressed all along Brendon, the smell of his come still on Brendon's skin, is pretty much the only way Spencer wants to wake up ever again. The good morning blowjobs don't hurt, either. Brendon eventually makes Spencer let go of his cock and go downstairs for food, and even though he threatens showers after they eat, Spencer's pretty sure he can convince Brendon to go for at least one more round before he actually follows through on it.

Spencer bounds down the stairs, trying to figure out the quickest thing he can bring back up to Brendon, but he stops short when he gets to the living room. Ryan is passed out face-down on the couch, snoring softly, and Jon is sitting bleary-eyed in the hideous plaid recliner, staring at the TV, surrounded by empty beer bottles.

"'Sup, Spence," he says, waving a hand at Spencer distractedly. "I'm pretty sure Nik has it in the bag."

"That's... nice," Spencer says. "Did you get any sleep, buddy?"

"No, no, it's cool, though. We're down to the final two," Jon says, his eyes glued to the screen. "But only one can be America's Next Top Model."

"Right," Spencer says, backing away slowly to the kitchen. "Well, good luck, dude."

Spencer is sorely tempted to stay in the kitchen and cook himself a pack of bacon, but he's pretty sure that if he brings Brendon Eggos, he'll totally get laid again. Spencer sticks four of them into the toaster and eats Ryan's leftover tacos cold while he waits. The whole werewolf thing has definitely made for some interesting food choices lately, and Spencer's seriously considering dipping the last taco in butter when Brendon's waffles pop up. Spencer shoves the rest of the taco into his mouth while he smears the waffles in butter the way Brendon likes and uses the last of the syrup in an attempt to properly drown them. He pours Brendon a glass of milk as an afterthought and heads upstairs with the food, pausing halfway to crack up at Jon's cry of outrage when Nicole beats Nik out for the title.

-

Ryan is kind of a huge cockblock. Sure, he says it's time to buckle down on the album and that he's in the zone and they need to come together creatively, but Spencer is pretty sure Ryan just hates him and wants him to be unhappy. For the past few days Spencer has barely gotten to sleep, much less have lots and lots of awesome sex now that he knows he can control himself around Brendon. Aside from a few half-asleep handjobs, the only time Spencer gets to be alone with Brendon is when they stumble into bed at night and fall asleep within minutes.

Spencer had started out the day on a high note, thanks to an unexpected and completely awesome surprise in-shower blowjob, but because Ryan hates him, he manages to ruin that too. Ryan rushes them all into the practice space to see something he wrote the night before, and Spencer can feel Ryan judging him when Brendon tries to sing a few lines and his voice is hoarse, low and rough from having Spencer's cock in his mouth half an hour earlier. Brendon breaks apologetically to cough and get a drink of water, and Ryan pulls Spencer aside.

"Why do you hate my band?" Ryan hisses.

"Our band."

"Why do you hate the band?"

"Oh, come off it, Ryan," Spencer says, trying not yell at Ryan despite how frustrated he feels. "We've been working nonstop for five of the six days Brendon and I have been together," Spencer says, brushing his hair out of his face. He's blushing, just a little bit, but when he looks off to the side, Jon gives him an apologetic shrug. "You're lucky we showed up at all," he grumbles when Ryan just gives him a blank stare.

"Sex, Ryan," Brendon says from behind them. "We want to be having sex, not spending every free moment in the studio."

"I already let you have sex," Ryan says. "Now it's time to make an album."

"How very fucking kind of you," Spencer says. "Now come the fuck on and let's practice, since you dragged us here anyway, before you get distracted and decide we need another week-long break so you can harness your chi."

"I needed to find inspiration, not harness my chi, dickhead," Ryan snaps, stalking back over to his guitar.

Brendon throws Spencer a concerned look when he heads back to his kit, but Spencer just shrugs at him and pointedly ignores Ryan until it's time to count them in.

-

Spencer's still wound up and more than a little angry when they call it a night, and Brendon making pouty, concerned faces at him from across the room as he paces is not helping.

"It's just fucking hypocritical, is what it is," Spencer says. "How many times has he fucked off on band stuff for a girl?"

"Lots and lots of times, Spence," Brendon says.

"If he has a problem, he needs to be a grownup and talk to me about it, not try to ruin my life," Spencer says. He's panting at the end of it, his hands clenched by his sides, and he backs away a little when Brendon walks toward him.

"Uh uh," Brendon says, shoving at his shoulder, "C'mon, sit down."

Spencer lets Brendon tug him over to the bed and settles onto the floor in front of it when Brendon pushes at his shoulders. Brendon sits behind him on the bed and starts rubbing at his tense shoulders, sticking his feet on top of Spencer's thighs in the process.

"Your feet are cold," Spencer says, dropping his head so Brendon can get at his neck.

"I know," Brendon says, "that's why they're on you. You're like a furnace. A tense, grumbly furnace."

Spencer laughs weakly and grabs Brendon's feet, squeezing at them before he starts to rub.

"This is an ingenious system," Brendon says. "I get foot rubs while you get a neck rub. This is going to cut our time in half."

Spencer turns his head and kisses at Brendon's knee, resting his head there so Brendon can get at the bunched up muscle in his shoulder.

"You know Ryan gave me a talk, right? After he caught us that time?" Brendon says after a few minutes. "It was adorable, all about how you're a very special boy and you don't give your heart away easily and I should cradle it like a crystal dove."

"I... what?" Spencer says. He's not sure where to start.

"He was very high at the time," Brendon clarifies. "But the point is, I think maybe he's a little protective, is all. It's kind of sweet."

"It's not sweet, it's fucking absurd," Spencer says. "Why the hell would he even think he had the right--”

"Because you two have been friends since, like, the womb?" Brendon says, digging his thumbs into the nape of Spencer's neck just right. "I'm just saying, first the werewolf thing and now us. It's a lot of change in a little bit of time. The only way this could be worse for him is if we brought a new baby into the house or something. Just let him be a dick for a little while, and he'll get over it."

"Stop being right," Spencer says grumpily.

"Impossible," Brendon says, flexing his toes in Spencer's grip. "Now come on, I'm tired. Sleep time."

"Filthy sex time, you mean?" Spencer asks, craning his neck back to look up at Brendon, but he kind of ruins it by yawning halfway through.

"Sleep," Brendon says, rolling his eyes and leaning down to kiss Spencer's forehead. Spencer lets go of Brendon's feet with a sigh and gets to his feet, watching intently as Brendon strips off his clothes for bed. "Sleep," Brendon repeats when he notices Spencer staring.

"No, really," Spencer says as he throws his clothes on the floor, "are you all conspiring to make me miserable?"

"It's a total conspiracy theory," Brendon says with a yawn, climbing under the covers and reaching over to switch off the lamp. "We're all out to get you."

Brendon pats the bed and Spencer crawls in behind him, spooning up close until he's pressed all along Brendon's back with his nose pressed in under Brendon's ear. "I knew it," Spencer says, pressing his hand to Brendon's stomach.

Brendon makes a grumbly, sleepy noise in return, and Spencer presses his lips to Brendon's neck softly before breathing in deep and closing his eyes.

-

Spencer's already in the kitchen when Ryan comes stumbling down the stairs at the smell of coffee. Spencer holds out his cup automatically when Ryan reaches out for it, and Ryan takes a big swallow, just like always, and then hisses and sticks his burnt tongue out, just like always.

"You never learn," Spencer says.

"You always hand me hot coffee," Ryan says. He stands there for a second, simultaneously trying to stick his tongue out and blow on it, and Spencer cracks up, bending over in half and holding his stomach.

"Shut up," Ryan says. "It's harder to apologize to you when you're laughing at me."

"Oh, is that what you were trying to do?" Spencer says once he gets his breathing back under control.

"Jon pointed out that I was possibly being a dick," Ryan says sheepishly.

"Maybe a little," Spencer says. "But, I mean, it was pretty important that we practice that song you had one verse and a guitar riff for."

"No, seriously, shut up before I stop being nice," Ryan says. "Jon and I are going to see a movie in town, and then we're going to go to the music store, and then we're having dinner, and then we're picking up groceries."

"Aww, that sounds like a lovely date," Spencer says, grinning.

"Oh my god, shut up and go have a lot of sex while we're gone, okay? Maybe you'll be in a better mood." Ryan grabs Spencer's mug off the counter as he turns to go upstairs, throwing a victorious look over his shoulder. "I'm taking this."

"Just remember, Ryan, you don't have to put out if he buys dinner!" Spencer calls out after him.

"I hope your dick falls off," Ryan grumbles.


	5. Chapter Five

Spencer's dick does not, in fact, fall off, but he's so distracted when he sits down in the living room that he doesn't even realize he's watching Martha Stewart until she's halfway through making what looks like a seriously delicious cheesecake. It's a little jarring, going from thinking about licking Brendon open, fucking into him with his face buried in Brendon's neck, to Martha lecturing him on the proper way to crack an egg. Spencer blinks and shakes his head a little, because seriously, what the fuck. He considers going back upstairs, crawling back into bed with Brendon, but he's already more than ready to be fucking Brendon, and he honestly doubts his ability to hold off until Ryan and Jon actually leave.

"If you're going to bake cakes while we're gone," Jon says, coming down the stairs in flip-flops and a hoodie, "I could go for chocolate."

"We don't have all the ingredients for a cake," Ryan says, trailing behind Jon. "I checked last time we smoked up. Did you want us to buy cake stuff while we're out, Spencer?"

Spencer groans and changes the channel, flipping through until he finds The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

"It's for you, too. We figured you might be hungry when we get back," Ryan continues. "You know, from all the sex."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Yeah, I got it."

"Oh, sweet," Jon says, flopping down on the sofa next to Spencer with a cup of coffee. "Is this the one where they get trapped in the cave? Ryan, go get my keys, I love this one."

"Hey," Ryan says when an ad pops up in the corner of the screen. "Awesome, it's a marathon!"

"Oh my god, please leave," Spencer says when Ryan perches on the arm of the sofa instead, staring at the screen. "Really, what do I have to do? Money? I'll give you money."

"That cake sounded really good," Jon says conversationally, "now that I think about it."

"Fine," Spencer says. "I will make you a cake. I will make you ten cakes, just go away."

"How about it?" Ryan asks. "Can we be bribed with ten cakes?"

"Absolutely," Jon says, taking the keys from Ryan. "Now c'mon, let's go get this over with."

"Just because the film has subtitles doesn't mean it's stupid, Jon, okay--" Ryan calls out after Jon, but Spencer tunes them out until they're driving away. He manages to hold out until the car is halfway down the road before he heads back up to his room, and frankly, that's an accomplishment. Spencer is all about the small victories. Spencer is also all about Brendon, because fuck, the way Brendon smells in the morning. It's all Brendon, no toothpaste or deodorant or soap yet, and Spencer's mostly stopped thinking about how weird he would have found that a few months ago, because now - now it's amazing.

Brendon is sweaty from sleeping pressed up so close to Spencer, and Spencer can smell himself on Brendon's skin. He climbs slowly into the bed and noses behind Brendon's ear, at his neck, his armpit, the bend of his elbow, all the places where he smells the strongest. Brendon starts to stir under him, grumbling sleepily and pressing against Spencer instinctively, arching his shoulders a little and turning to his side when Spencer pulls back. Brendon's skin is warm, and he stretches, blinking a smile at Spencer as Spencer kisses the corner of his mouth. "Morning breath," Brendon says gruffly, and Spencer just laughs against his mouth, sucking Brendon's bottom lip in as he kisses him.

"I don't care even a little bit," Spencer says as he kisses down Brendon's neck, tasting the salty tang of Brendon's skin. He can already smell Brendon getting turned on, and Brendon starts to squirm, gripping at Spencer's shoulders and pressing up against his body. It's everything Spencer loves about Brendon underneath him like this. Spencer kisses down his chest, sucking right under Brendon's bellybutton where he's the most ticklish. When Brendon gasps and arches up, Spencer uses the opportunity to strip him of his briefs, and leans in to bury his nose in the crease of Brendon's thigh, breathing deep.

"Jon and Ryan are gone," he says, pausing to suck at the soft skin of Brendon's thigh, "and will be for a while. We're going to have sex now."

"Yeah, okay," Brendon says breathlessly as Spencer sucks a bruise onto his hip. Brendon is just starting to get hard, but Spencer can't resist licking over him anyway, just for the taste of it. Brendon's cock is soft and warm in his mouth, and Spencer sucks at him a little before pulling off and nosing his way under Brendon's cock, breathing in deep at the heavy, sharp smell there. Spencer licks a little, sucking at the skin, and Brendon groans sleepily and tries to push up into Spencer's mouth. His cock is starting to swell now, starting to get full and heavy, and Spencer sucks the head back into his mouth as he holds onto Brendon's hips.

Brendon smells so good and Spencer mostly just wants to be inside him as soon as he can. It's only been a few days, but it feels like forever. Spencer lets go of Brendon's cock with one last hard suck before pushing Brendon's legs up and spreading them apart enough that he can lick up behind Brendon's balls, his tongue trailing down over Brendon's hole. Brendon makes a noise, a quiet stutter of a gasp, and Spencer can smell it when his arousal flares.

The more Spencer licks, the better Brendon smells, and he's moving his hips in tiny, sleepy jerks, pushing back against Spencer's tongue. Brendon tastes dark and heavy, and Spencer can't get enough. He doesn't even realize that he's lifting Brendon up, his hands digging into the flesh of Brendon's ass as he holds him up and open for Spencer's mouth, until he grips down hard enough to make Brendon squeak. Spencer hears the noise and looks up, but Brendon's just staring back down at Spencer, eyes not quite focused and cheeks flushed and his hair still sticking out to the side from where he slept on it. Spencer wants to pull it, wants to make Brendon squeak again, but he settles for squeezing Brendon's hips and turning him over. Brendon does make another noise at that, a soft "oomph" when he's caught off-guard, but then Spencer's pulling at Brendon's ass, spreading him open and licking into him eagerly where Brendon's already wet from Spencer's spit.

Brendon groans, the sound still low and rumbly from sleep, and Spencer squeezes at Brendon's ass, his nose pressed into Brendon's skin, smelling sweat as he licks into Brendon. He can feel the way Brendon's muscles twitch and clench impatiently around his tongue.

"Spence," Brendon moans, and Spencer slides his mouth away from Brendon's hole, scraping his teeth over the curve of Brendon's ass and feeling the way Brendon shudders before going still underneath Spencer. Spencer rubs one hand up the smooth line of Brendon's back and sucks two fingers into his mouth, pressing them inside of Brendon slowly, feeling the way Brendon clenches again. He gets fixated on the way his fingers look sinking in deep, shining with spit, as Spencer rubs slowly up inside Brendon.

Brendon starts to squirm down into the sheets, and the smell of arousal is so thick in the air that he has to be completely hard, is probably even leaking, smearing pre-come over his stomach. Spencer licks his lips and leans down, working his tongue into the tight heat of Brendon's body alongside his fingers. Spencer goes slow, stretching Brendon with his fingers while his tongue licks wetly over Brendon, feeling the way he twitches under Spencer's mouth. Spencer finally pulls back when Brendon starts to shake, and Brendon lets out a soft whine.

"Spence, I'm--"

"Shh, I know," Spencer says gruffly as he leans over Brendon's back, fitting his body on top of Brendon's while holding himself up with one arm. Brendon arches back into Spencer automatically, reaching behind himself to pull Spencer closer - close until there's nothing between them, just skin-to-skin. Spencer feels heat twist in his stomach, possessive and tempting, as he nuzzles Brendon's neck, sucking lightly at the skin. Spencer's nostrils flare and he curves his hand around Brendon's hip, holding Brendon down as he starts to slide his cock over the warm skin of Brendon's lower back, slippery with sweat, and down the cleft of his ass.

Brendon drops his hands down to bed, balling his fists up in the sheets and turning his head on the pillow as Spencer grinds down over his back, breathing hotly over Brendon's ear and mouthing at his neck, feeling the flush of Brendon's skin under his lips. Spencer is really, really tempted to just push in, just take Brendon right now, but Brendon's not wet enough, not stretched enough yet. Spencer holds on to Brendon's hips and works his own down faster and faster against the small of Brendon's back.

"Come on," Brendon breathes quietly, spreading his legs underneath Spencer, and Spencer presses his forehead to Brendon's shoulder, groaning as he comes hot and wet over Brendon's skin. "Spence, what--" Brendon gasps out as he arches up.

"Lube," Spencer says. "I don't like the way it tastes. Now it's just me, just you." He doesn't know if he's getting his point across, but Brendon just lets out a shaky breath and arches his ass up for Spencer when Spencer slides down Brendon's body. Spencer can't get enough of the way he smells on Brendon's skin, and he's tempted to just rub his come all over Brendon, make him smell like Spencer. Instead, Spencer dips his head down and opens his mouth, licking as much up onto his tongue as he can before holding Brendon open again and letting his own come drip off his tongue and down over Brendon's hole. Brendon jerks violently, and Spencer has to hold Brendon's hips still as he pushes his come into Brendon with his tongue, letting go with one hand to slide two fingers inside, to make sure Brendon's wet and open enough for his cock.

"God, Spencer. Fuck me, please," Brendon begs, trying to push back against Spencer's tongue, and Spencer laughs and scrapes his teeth over the soft curve of Brendon's ass again, listening as Brendon hisses in a sharp breath. "Please," Brendon tries again, and Spencer reluctantly sits up, petting at the small of Brendon's back as Brendon arches his hips up, inviting. Spencer has to bite hard at his lip before he speaks.

"Can we--" Spencer clears his throat when it comes out hoarse, too low and rough. "Can you get on your back? I like seeing your face," Spencer says, fingers trailing back down the split of Brendon's ass, and Brendon sits up and flops over.

"Come on," Brendon says, and Spencer's smiling when he leans down to kiss Brendon hard, lips sliding wetly together.

"You're so impatient."

"You just came, like, two minutes ago. Spencer, seriously, come on." Spencer can't pretend he doesn't like it when Brendon's desperate, when he starts to whine, but it's not like Spencer isn't just as impatient to be inside of him. He leans back down to kiss Brendon deep as he shuffles forward on his knees, getting himself in position. "Yeah, yes, come on," Brendon repeats when Spencer's cock brushes against the curve of his ass. He grabs at Spencer's shoulders, trying to pull him closer, and Spencer just kisses at his wrist and grips Brendon's hips, tilting him up.

Spencer's hit with a fresh wave of Brendon's scent, his cock hard and wet and Spencer's come on his skin. If Brendon wasn't so desperate - wasn't shaking - Spencer would lean down and suck Brendon's cock back into his mouth, lick back over him just to taste it.

Brendon whines and his fingers squeeze hard at Spencer's shoulders when Spencer lines up and starts to press his cock in, the slide made slick from come.

"Oh fuck," Brendon breathes, his head dropping back for a moment, baring his neck, and Spencer thinks they could do this a million times and he would never find it less hot, the way Brendon responds. Brendon shudders and tries to relax around Spencer's cock, and Spencer tries breathing through his mouth to keep himself from coming as soon as he's pressed deep inside. It doesn't exactly help, though, not when Spencer can nearly taste Brendon's arousal in the air. And Brendon's so tight, already trying to arch his hips and take Spencer even deeper. Part of Spencer just wants to stay still and let Brendon push back on his cock in slow, lazy circles, but another, much bigger part of Spencer has him gripping Brendon's hips and thrusting slowly, watching his cock disappear into Brendon's body. He reaches down to rub at Brendon's rim, where he's stretched open around Spencer's cock, and Brendon groans.

"Can we just--" Brendon hooks his ankles around Spencer's hips, digging his heels into Spencer's ass and trying to pull him closer. "Oh god, oh fuck. This is good. No more staring."

"I can't help how good you look," Spencer says in a low voice, almost a growl, but he starts thrusting faster anyway. Brendon's smell just gets better and Spencer lets himself breathe deep, feeling dizzy with it, overwhelmed. He lets Brendon pull him down by his shoulders, too, until Spencer can feel Brendon's cock sliding wetly against his belly every time he snaps his hips forward, every time Brendon lets out a short gasp from the feeling of Spencer deep inside.

Spencer slows down again, he can't help it - Brendon feels incredible and he just wants to take it in, thrusting in deep and staying there, grinding his hips in slow circles. "Fuck," Brendon hisses. "Spencer, come on." Brendon clenches around him and digs his heels into Spencer's ass even harder, working his hips up desperately. "Spencer, please move, holy shit."

Spencer groans and grabs Brendon's hips, holding him up and keeping him at just the right angle so Spencer can thrust in deep, can feel Brendon's thighs shaking where they're squeezing at his hips. Brendon's straining in Spencer's grip, trying to get closer even though there's no way he can. "Harder," he gasps out, pushing at Spencer's ass with his heels. "Spencer, harder."

Spencer can't go much harder. He's already holding Brendon up by his hips, probably squeezing too tight, and he's pounding into Brendon as hard as he can go without totally losing it and just giving over to the wolf part of his brain that's echoing Brendon, telling Spencer he can go harder, faster, deeper. Brendon reaches up and grabs at Spencer's hair, pulling hard until Spencer pushes forward, folding Brendon almost in half underneath him.

"Yes," Brendon groans out when Spencer sinks in even deeper, and Spencer plants his knees on the bed, looking down and meeting Brendon's eyes, big and dark and hot. "Please," Brendon says again, "please, just like this." Brendon tosses his head back and Spencer swears he does it on purpose, because just like that his wolf brain stops letting him over-think things and he snarls a little, snapping his hips forward hard and fast.

Brendon's close - really close. Spencer can smell him, can feel it in the way Brendon's thighs strain and tremble and his toes dig helplessly into Spencer's lower back. Spencer wants to taste him, wants Brendon to come in his mouth, but he can't bring himself to pull out. Next time, Spencer thinks to himself, next time, but right now Brendon is panting and his eyes are shining wetly and Spencer reaches down and wraps his hand around Brendon's cock.

Brendon groans, the noise strangled and cut off when Brendon starts to come over Spencer's hand, just like that, after only a few strokes of Spencer's fist. His whole body is shaking, his chest and cock flushed dark red as Spencer jerks Brendon through it. Brendon starts to whine, says, "Spencer, Spence, c'mon," and Spencer stills his hips and leans forward far enough to press his face into the crook of Brendon's neck. He can feel just as much as he can hear Brendon's racing pulse when he comes, deep inside Brendon, his nose pressed to the sweat-slick skin at the base of Brendon's neck. Spencer opens his mouth against Brendon's neck, panting into his skin and licking idly, lapping at Brendon's sweat.

Spencer's head still feels fuzzy, stupid and happy and content to stay right where he is, pressed inside of Brendon while Brendon catches his breath. But Brendon starts to squirm after a minute or two, pushing gently at Spencer's shoulder when Spencer rolls his hips into Brendon. "I can't," he gasps out. "Sorry, sorry, I can't.”

"Hey, no," Spencer says, shifting back and settling a hand low on Brendon's belly as he pulls out. Brendon gasps when Spencer pulls out completely, his hips bucking up into the air, and Spencer bites down the growl that forms in his throat when he smells them, smells his come inside of Brendon. "You okay?" he asks gruffly.

"Yeah, just," Brendon says, blinking a little. "It's just the way you stay hard, it's a lot, after--" Brendon blushes and cuts himself off, and Spencer tilts his head looking at him quizzically. "It's full," Brendon says, squinting his eyes shut. "After you come, and you stay hard, and I'm sensitive, and. It's just a lot."

"You have to tell me if I hurt you," Spencer says, running his hands up and down Brendon's legs. Some part of him wants to bow his head and sniff over Brendon, push with his nose, make sure nothing's broken, but the idea freaks Spencer out enough that he's pretty sure he shouldn't do it.

"It doesn't hurt," Brendon says. "Well, I mean, a little, but not in a bad way. Mostly I want you to go again right then but I know I'll be sore."

"What do you mean, 'a good way?'" Spencer asks as he shifts back on his knees and settles Brendon's hips back down to the bed. He happens to glance down and blanches, his stomach twisting up sick and sudden when he sees the bruises already starting to form on Brendon's hips. "Fuck," he says, running his fingertips over them gently. "Fuck, see, I did hurt you," Spencer says. His stomach is churning and he feels a little sick at the idea of hurting Brendon, but Brendon just laughs and rolls his eyes, sitting up on his elbows.

"Spencer," Brendon says slowly, "if I didn't like things a little rough, I wouldn't be dating a werewolf."

Spencer feels kind of like Brendon just punched him in the gut, because he hadn't even thought about that, but. It makes sense. Brendon said he'd been obvious about things, about his attraction to Spencer, but Spencer starts wracking his brain, trying to figure out when the attraction started, when Brendon decided he needed to be obvious. Maybe it had been right after, right after Spencer had been bitten, and he didn't think that-- Spencer lets out a low, distressed whining noise, and great, fuck, that's just what he needs right now.

"What?" Brendon says, sitting up and reaching for Spencer. "Hey, what's wrong, what is it--" Brendon trails off, his face going a little pinched as he realizes what he said. "Oh fuck, Spencer, no, this has nothing to do with you being a werewolf. I've liked you since high school, you massive idiot," Brendon groans, flopping back against the bed. "And back then I was stronger than you. You couldn't have beat me up if you tried."

"Wait, what?" Spencer says, because Brendon was about as strong as a wet noodle in high school. He could so have beaten Brendon up. "I could so have beaten you up," Spencer says. "But more importantly, you've liked me since high school?"

"Pretty much since we met," Brendon says, averting his eyes from Spencer and fidgeting with the sheets. "I thought it was just a dude crush or whatever, but then we got older and you got even hotter and I got even gayer and it just kind of didn't go away," he says with a shrug.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Spencer asks, shifting closer on the bed and grabbing at Brendon's hand.

"Well, it wouldn't have mattered, right?" Brendon says, and Spencer can feel him tense up, smell it when Brendon starts to sweat. It smells different than usual, and Spencer realizes instinctively that Brendon's nervous, that he's scared.

"What do you mean?" Spencer asks, rubbing at the base of Brendon's thumb.

"Just, like, this," Brendon says, pulling his hand away. "It's because of the wolf thing, and how I smell, or whatever. And that's fine, it's cool, it's just not like it would have mattered if I had said something before." Brendon won't meet Spencer's eyes and he's chewing on his lip, and Spencer is torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to shake him.

"Dumbass," Spencer says slowly. "I might not have had a crush on you from the start, but it was a pretty near thing, and it had nothing to do with being a werewolf. You remember that first show Jon played for us?"

"When you punched the sound guy and almost got us thrown out?" Brendon says. "Yeah, I remember. It was a great first impression."

"He was talking about you. Like, about you about you," Spencer says, wincing at how stupid he sounds. "Anyway, I didn't really stop to think about why, I just punched him, and that's the night I realized it was maybe not normal friend behavior to get violent at the prospect of you getting laid."

"Dude," Brendon says, finally looking up at Spencer, his mouth hanging out a little in surprise. "That's why you punched that sound guy?"

"Whatever," Spencer grumbles, blushing a little. "He was being a jackass about it."

"Spencer," Brendon says, his voice teasing as he gets up on his knees and shuffles over. "Spencer, you loooooooooove me."

"Not right now I don't," Spencer says as Brendon settles down heavily on his lap.

"That was very sweet of you, in a stupid way," Brendon says, leaning in and kissing at Spencer's jaw.

"What a lovely compliment," Spencer replies, but he turns his head to the side so Brendon can get at his neck, nipping along the edge of his beard. "See, though?" he says after a minute. "I told you I was always stronger than you. I laid that guy out."

"Oh my god," Brendon groans, pulling back at looking at Spencer with a raised eyebrow. "You're ridiculous."

"Just saying."

Spencer's honestly a little taken aback when Brendon digs his knees into Spencer's sides, hard, and pushes him down onto the bed. Brendon grabs at his wrists and tugs them over Spencer's head, holding them in place, and Spencer looks at him, trying not to laugh. "Whatcha doing?" he asks.

"Pinning you," Brendon says matter-of-factly.

"You do realize I could--”

Brendon doesn't let him finish, digging his fingers hard into the skin of Spencer's wrists. "No, werewolf powers are cheating. If you didn't have them, I could take you."

Spencer raises an eyebrow and bucks up, almost throwing Brendon off.

"Cheating," Brendon says, but his fingers are digging in even tighter now and Spencer can smell him starting to get turned on again.

Spencer bucks up again, once, twice, watching carefully at the way Brendon's face starts to flush and his hairline breaks out in sweat.

"You're not kidding, are you?" Spencer asks, his voice suddenly dark and serious. "This--" Spencer says, surging up and flipping them effortlessly until Brendon's trapped under his body. "You really do want this."

Brendon doesn't answer, just gasps and arches up, struggling under Spencer's body. Spencer almost lets go until he realizes Brendon doesn't want him to. He wants to be just like this, with Spencer pinning him down and squeezing at his wrists. Spencer can smell it, can feel Brendon starting to get hard again.

Spencer leans down, grip still tight over Brendon's wrists, and scrapes his teeth lightly over Brendon's throat. It's dangerous, and it's stupid, but Spencer doesn't let himself nip or press his teeth in any harder. Brendon just whines, low in his throat, his hips twisting violently under Spencer as Spencer moves his mouth down to Brendon's collarbone, teasing with his teeth.

"Spence--"

Spencer squeezes at Brendon's wrists and then slides his hands down to Brendon's forearms, squeezing there too. He can feel the tension ripple in Brendon's muscles when he strains up against Spencer, still trying to wrestle out of Spencer's grip. Brendon's hard, though, and Spencer doesn't just smell it - Brendon's cock is already pressing up against Spencer's belly, just from Spencer holding Brendon down like this, teasing at his neck.

"Okay," Brendon breathes out, and his voice comes out rough, much lower than usual. Spencer likes it a lot. "Okay, fine. You're stronger than me. But you're also a cheater."

"Mmhm," Spencer hums, mouth open over Brendon's collarbone, and Brendon's hips twitch up underneath Spencer. He's stopped struggling, but he doesn't move his arms back down from over his head as Spencer skims his mouth down Brendon's body. Spencer's tongue leaves a wet trail as he slides his way down to Brendon's cock, stopping just before Brendon's stomach, where his cock is resting, hard and swollen already.

Spencer lets his free arm come up to rest across Brendon's chest, not quite holding him down, but when he presses his nose to the base of Brendon's cock and breathes in deep, Brendon shudders and tries to arch up, pinned down by Spencer's arm.

"God, Spencer, what--"

"Shh," Spencer says for no particular reason, nosing around the base of Brendon's cock, where his smell is the strongest. He smells so good, and it makes heat flare wildly, low in Spencer's belly. Spencer lets his nose and lips slide up the length of Brendon's cock, and only then does Brendon start to squirm and whine, trying to arch his hips up for friction but failing with Spencer's arm, strong across his chest, holding him down. Spencer licks up Brendon's cock with one slow, firm drag of his tongue, stopping when he gets to the head and lapping at Brendon, tasting the hints of pre-come that are just starting to gather.

"Spencer," Brendon groans, trying to thrust up. "Spencer, fuck, please. Come on, come on, I'm ready now, we can totally, totally go again, oh my god." Brendon's voice is high and strained, his cock full and flushed as his hips tense and strain, and, well. Spencer's pretty sure they've still got at least a couple hours left until Ryan and Jon get home. It would just be stupid not to make the most of them.

-

Jon and Ryan totally collect on their cake. Spencer doesn't actually complain, primarily because he and Brendon had so much sex that Spencer actually went soft for a while. It was like five minutes, and it lasted exactly long enough for Spencer to pee, but still. Progress. Because Brendon is thoroughly ridiculous and Spencer can't say no, they end up eating chocolate cake in bed that night, and Spencer has to concede that it's one of Brendon's better ideas after he gets done licking frosting off of Brendon's stomach.

"C'mon," Spencer says around a yawn. "We should move to your bed. I'm pretty sure you got cake on the sheets in mine."

"Nuh," Brendon says, grabbing at Spencer and tugging until he settles back down into the sheets. "Comfortable," Brendon says into Spencer's chest, squirming around until he's got one leg between Spencer's and his arm wrapped tight around Spencer's waist. "I like it right here." Brendon's voice is slurred and heavy with sleep, and Spencer wraps his arms tight around Brendon, pulling him even closer.

"Me too," he breathes out into Brendon's hair.

-

Ryan eases up on the constant workload, and Spencer finds himself falling pretty easily into a routine. He wakes up every morning tangled up with Brendon and kisses him awake before they stumble into the shower and down for breakfast. Breakfast is usually around noon at the earliest and mainly consists of leftover dinner, but still. Sometimes Spencer makes actual breakfast food, even after the great Waffle War, but for the most part it's leftover pasta or barbecue or takeout. Not that Spencer's complaining, because seriously, he could eat a rack of ribs for breakfast every morning for the rest of his life and die happy, even if Brendon's convinced Spencer is going to die from meat intake. Of course, he usually stops his tirade halfway through to giggle at Jon's "meat intake" jokes, but sometimes he can be surprisingly serious about it for a good five minutes or so.

Some days Ryan shuffles them into the studio to fuck around on the half-finished songs they have, but mostly they laze around, getting high and throwing out ideas that Ryan only remembers to write down when they're his.

Also, Spencer is having a lot of sex. Like, a lot of sex. He was thinking that maybe the edge of his attraction to Brendon would wear off once they were together, once Spencer didn't have to hold everything back. But if anything, it's gotten worse. Spencer has trouble being around Brendon at all and not picturing him naked, spread open, and moaning. It's making day-to-day life increasingly difficult, but at least Spencer's convinced it isn't completely one-sided. Brendon gets turned on over pretty much anything around Spencer, and luckily Spencer has gotten a lot better at controlling himself. He can mostly keep his hands off of Brendon in front of Ryan and Jon, and as long as Spencer can sleep with his nose tucked behind Brendon's ear or in the crook of his neck, he's even okay on the nights when they're too worn out or Brendon's too sore for sex.

He kind of likes it, actually, going to sleep pressed up against Brendon's back, Brendon's ass snuggled up against his hips. It's more of a comfort than a tease, now, having Brendon close, listening to him breathe, falling asleep with Brendon's scent in his nose. It definitely helps that Brendon has been very nice about the mornings when they wake up to Spencer cupping Brendon's cock, or rubbing slowly against Brendon's ass in his sleep. It's not intentional or anything, it's just something Spencer finds comforting. He likes waking up to Brendon half-hard and warm under his hand, likes the soft noises Brendon makes before he groans and swats at Spencer's hip, realizing what Spencer's doing. But Brendon always lets Spencer nuzzle into his neck and nose over the hollow of his throat, taking in Brendon's scent, all sweat and sleep, which is pretty much all Spencer wants to do in the morning anyway. Unless Brendon actually wants to have sex. Spencer is never, ever going to say no to sex with Brendon.

-

Spencer is having a good dream - like a really good dream, the best dream ever in fact - when suddenly he's no longer fucking Brendon in the middle of a forest, but is instead blinking groggily up at Ryan, who's shaking his shoulder and repeating his name over and over.

"Oh my god, what," Brendon hisses from somewhere beneath Spencer's body. "Ross, what?"

"I need Spencer," Ryan says, and he starts poking at Spencer's forehead, which he knows Spencer fucking hates.

"I'm gonna murder you," Spencer says, turning over and burying his face in the crook of Brendon's neck. "Gonna murder you with my hands."

"Spencer, get up," Ryan says, yanking the covers off of them. "Oh," he says after a second. "No one is wearing pants."

"No," Brendon says into his pillow. "Because this is our room and we were asleep."

"Okay," Ryan says, clumsily throwing the covers back over them. "Okay, well, Spencer, I need you to come to the studio. But with pants. Put on pants and come to the studio."

"Ryan, it's like 4am and I'm asleep," Spencer whines, burrowing closer to Brendon. Brendon smells good, warm and sleepy, and their bed is comfortable and Spencer was asleep.

"No, you're not. Now come on. This is so, so important, but I need to hear it against the beat. Please, Spencer?"

"Don't do it," Brendon mumbles, but he's already half asleep and Ryan is looking at Spencer imploringly. Spencer groans, kissing Brendon's temple and flipping Ryan off when Ryan snorts.

"Shut the fuck up, or I'm going back to bed," Spencer grumbles, but he grabs his boxers when Ryan holds them out gingerly, and then he follows Ryan out of the room, rubbing at his eyes as he stumbles down the hallway.

He's still mostly asleep when he sits down behind the drums, zoning in and out as Ryan rants about the bridge in the song he just wrote, telling Spencer what he wants the drums to sound like. Spencer's halfway through playing what Ryan wants when he actually focuses on the lyrics Ryan wrote, and christ. Christ.

"Ryan," he says slowly after Ryan's finished. The lyrics may not be Ryan's best, but they definitely aren't his most subtle. It apparently doesn't matter how many times Spencer tells him - Ryan's still going to blame this entire werewolf situation on himself. "Do we seriously have to have this conversation again?"

Ryan avoids his gaze, scribbling in his notebook.

"Seriously," Spencer says. "Dude, you know that this wasn't your fault. If this whole wolf musical thing is, like, an extended coping mechanism or whatever--"

Ryan cuts him off, scrambling to his feet and plucking out a few discordant notes on Brendon's keyboard. "It's an artistic choice, Spencer. Stop being so self-centered."

"Ryan," Spencer tries again, but Ryan straightens his back and squares his shoulders, which is Ryan-code for "the conversation is over," so Spencer just sighs and starts playing Josie. He grins when Ryan's foot starts tapping, and by the time he hits the first chorus, Ryan is doing the weird little shimmy thing he does when he's trying not to dance.

"Come on, dicksmack," Spencer shouts, and Ryan rolls his eyes and flips Spencer off, but he picks up his guitar and starts to play along, smiling back at Spencer sheepishly as he starts to shuffle his feet and shout the lyrics.

-

Spencer doesn't exactly forget about Shane, but he was a little distracted with Brendon and the strange itch starting to settle in under his skin a week before the full moon, so he isn't exactly focused on it until Ryan says something over dinner.

"So hey," he says around a mouthful of spaghetti, "Shane's supposed to be here at like noon tomorrow, to film some of the practice stuff."

"Ryan's just reminding you guys because he thinks everyone puts on lip gloss before going on camera," Jon says, stealing a meatball off of Brendon's plate.

"It's chapstick, asshole," Ryan says, "and I'm reminding everyone because I figured some of us may not want to be having very loud sex when he gets here."

"Yeah, Jon," Brendon says, stealing his meatball back, "keep it down." Brendon shoves the entire meatball in his mouth and chews loudly before swallowing and saying, "I can't believe I almost forgot Shane was coming. Fucking A, I've missed that dude."

"You've missed being on camera, more like," Ryan says, and Brendon rolls his eyes.

"I've missed being on my bro's camera, so what? He likes to film us, I like to be filmed. It's a symbiotic relationship!"

"Don't bring biology into your camwhoring," Ryan says.

"That's right, you are the resident expert on camwhoring," Brendon replies.

"Oh, seriously, fuck you, that was years ago, and if I seem to remember, you--"

Spencer tunes out Ryan and Brendon's bickering after that, a skill that he's mastered over the years, in favor of systematically stealing the rest of the meatballs from Brendon's plate while he's distracted.

"Spence?" Brendon says a few minutes later. "Am I or am I not correct?"

"You're both idiots and I've been totally ignoring you, so I wouldn't know," Spencer says.

"Hey, where'd my meatballs go?" Brendon asks suddenly, staring at Jon accusingly.

"Uh uh," Jon says. "No. I stole Ryan's, that was all Spencer."

Brendon rolls his eyes in Spencer's general direction and crosses his arms over his chest. "That's low, Spencer," he says.

Spencer grins at him and runs his toes over the arch of Brendon's foot under the table. Brendon has never been very good at holding a grudge, and after a minute or two of some very intent footsie, he finally cracks and smiles brightly at Spencer.

"Hey," Jon says, "that's no fair. You were all pissed at me at the mere thought, and Spencer gets a pass for actually stealing your food?"

"Sex perks," Ryan explains, sounding genuinely sad. "That's also why Brendon gets extra waffles."

"You have really got to get over that one, man," Jon says.

"You wanna go to bed?" Brendon asks, reaching over once Spencer starts poking at the back of Brendon's knee with his big toe.

"Yeah," Spencer says, his stomach coiling up at the scent of Brendon's arousal, just starting to fill the air. "Yeah, I really do."

"Guys," Ryan calls after them when Spencer grabs Brendon around the waist and hauls him toward the stairs. "Guys, it's like 7:30, you're not even trying. Have some dignity."

-

Spencer wakes up the next morning with Brendon on top of him, asleep on his chest, and he runs his hands down Brendon's spine, petting over his ass.

"Mmnrgh," Brendon says into his throat.

Spencer hums in response and lets his fingers rub over Brendon's hole, just petting until Brendon shifts back a little and makes a sleepy noise. Spencer presses in with his thumb, rubbing just inside of Brendon where he's still a little wet from the night before. Brendon groans and lifts his head, glancing to the night table and then sitting up quickly on top of Spencer, jarring his hand away. "Fuck," he says, scrambling off the bed. "Spencer, it's 12:30. You were supposed to wake us up."

"Oops?" Spencer says, feeling secretly pleased at the way Brendon's moving a little stiffly as he tries to separate his boxers from the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Fuck, we need to get in the shower," Brendon says.

"No we don't," Spencer says lazily. "You smell awesome."

"I smell like day-old jizz, Spencer," Brendon says, wincing when he hears a car pull into the driveway.

"You smell awesome," Spencer says, hauling himself out of bed and wrapping his arms around Brendon's waist. "I promise," Spencer says into Brendon's ear before ducking his head and kissing at the side of Brendon's neck, sucking on the bruise he'd left there the night before.

"Stop," Brendon says, swatting at Spencer's shoulder. "It's going to be fun enough asking Ross for makeup if my shirt doesn't cover this thing. Fuck, where's my deodorant?"

"Don't need it," Spencer says, reluctantly bending down to grab his pants when he realizes Brendon has no plans to crawl back into bed with him and ignore Shane's existence. Spencer's a little nervous, is all. This is the first time anyone's really been up to the cabin, and it's just Shane but Shane also doesn't know that Spencer's a werewolf. It's harder than usual for him to control himself this close the moon, and Spencer is really, really not looking forward to having to explain things to Shane if he fucks up and does something particularly obvious.

"Spencer," Brendon says, tugging at his arm and laughing when Spencer leans back in to nose under Brendon's ear, "you're cute, but you're gross. Now put on a shirt, I think there's some Febreeze in the upstairs bathroom."

-

Spencer isn't crazy about the smell of Febreeze. He doesn't want to smell like meadows and rain, and he definitely doesn't like the way it tries to cover Brendon's scent, not to mention what little of Spencer's scent is still on Brendon. It makes his nose burn, and he keeps wrinkling his nose up as they make their way down the stairs.

"Stop it, you look ridiculous," Brendon says, but he's grinning at Spencer. Spencer grins back, but all of a sudden there a restless, itchy feeling in his chest. Spencer's being irrational, he knows he is. Shane is Brendon's friend - hell, Shane is Spencer's friend - but Brendon's practically shaking with nervous, excited energy and Spencer can smell how happy he is that Shane's here. It's entirely stupid of him, but Spencer can't seem to stop digging his nails into his palm. He wonders if it would be too forward to grab Brendon's hips and hold them when they greet Shane. It would certainly help keep Brendon from engaging in any unnaturally long hugs.

"No, seriously," Brendon says, stopping right before they get to the living room. Spencer can already smell Shane - cigarettes and faint cologne and musty camera equipment and Mountain Dew, which Spencer is kind of surprised he can even smell - and he squeezes his fists at his sides even tighter to keep from grabbing at Brendon's hips. "You're all tense and frowny and it's making me nervous."

"That's ridiculous," Spencer says, and it comes out almost a growl, and Spencer thinks he probably just proved Brendon's point. Brendon gives Spencer something like a warning look, kisses him quickly on the mouth, and then walks into the living room where Ryan is actually sharing the couch for once.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" Shane says when he sees them, his voice as cheery as ever. Brendon steps forward and Spencer makes himself hang back a little, trying very hard to not look like he's sulking. Because he's not.

"I missed you, bro," Brendon says, leaning up on his toes to hug Shane tightly, and Spencer waits approximately two seconds before he lets out a low, unmistakable growl. Brendon lets go of Shane and tosses Spencer a quick look, but Ryan and Jon are chatting to each other and Shane is busy smiling too widely at whatever Brendon is saying now to notice Spencer's reaction.

The look Brendon sends Spencer, though, is enough to make Spencer's stomach sink and his figurative tail tuck between his legs. Fuck, he likes Shane. Shane is awesome. Shane bought him beer that one time, and agreed to come to the cabin on his own time just to see what kind of shots he could get for a potential DVD. So it doesn't make sense, that every time Shane drapes his arm around Brendon's shoulder or touches his arm it makes Spencer want to hurt Shane, like, a lot, for touching something that belongs to Spencer.

And then it hits Spencer suddenly, that that's what's going on - this fucked up possessive attitude he has toward Brendon. Spencer feels his stomach twist unpleasantly because he's pretty sure he read articles about this back when Ryan used to read Cosmo, and he's hitting almost every point on the abusive boyfriend checklist. He doesn't want to be this pathetically jealous, and he sure as hell doesn't want to give Brendon a reason to think he's too crazy to put up with, but he can't help it. Shane leans in close to Brendon's face to say something and Spencer has to clench his fists again, hard, biting back the growl that wants to escape from his throat.

Eventually Shane settles back down on the couch, pushing at Ryan's legs where he's already spread them across Shane's seat. Brendon laughs at something Shane says and walks back over to Spencer, where he's lingering near the window and trying to calm himself by taking deep breaths of the air outside. There's so many different, wild smells, but they're all strangely calming when Spencer's feeling wound up like this.

"Hey," Brendon says quietly, rubbing at the small of Spencer's back. "Spence? Chill."

"I am chill," Spencer mumbles, but he knows he's pretty obviously sulking now.

"No, you're not," Brendon says, leaning his weight against Spencer's side reassuringly. "I get it. It's almost the full moon, and Shane's here, and I get it, okay, but you've got to chill out and stop being an asshole. You can do it. You were able to control yourself before, remember?"

"That was different," Spencer says, hating how his voice comes out in a whine. "That was you."

"This is me too, dumbass," Brendon says affectionately. "Killing your boyfriend's roommate in a jealous rage is kind of a deal breaker, you know."

"I'm not going to kill him," Spencer says. "At the most there'd be some light maiming."

"You're not funny," Brendon says, but he grins at Spencer and presses a kiss to his shoulder before he heads back to the sofa.

-

When Brendon comes home later that afternoon, he smells wrong. All Spencer can smell is Shane's cigarettes and stale beer and a hint of fried food. Brendon doesn't smell anything like Spencer and he barely smells anything like Brendon. Spencer whines low in his throat. He ignores the warning look Ryan shoots him and follows Brendon into the kitchen.

Brendon's humming to himself when Spencer enters the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for a place to put the beer, and Spencer tries not to overreact, really. He knows Brendon's right, knows that most of it just has to do with it being a week away from the full moon, but he's not used to Brendon being that far away for that long. Brendon's been gone with Shane and now Brendon smells like Shane, and it's maybe making Spencer a little crazy.

Brendon steps in front of the counter, setting two beers down and reaching for the bottle-opener just as Spencer leans in behind him, pressing the front of his body all along Brendon's back. Brendon goes still in front of Spencer, setting the bottle opener down and bracing his hands on the counter, keeping still as Spencer puts his hands down on the counter outside of Brendon's, boxing him in.

"What's up?" Brendon asks, voice soft, and Spencer doesn't answer him right away. Brendon's body is warm in front of him, and when Spencer leans his head down to press his face to the side of Brendon's neck, nosing at his dark hair until he can touch his lips to Brendon's slightly sweat-damp skin, the arousal that floods his nostrils is fresh, sudden. Spencer knows he can trust Brendon. But Spencer also knows how attractive Brendon is, how good he tastes. He knows that's hard to resist.

"You're still sleeping with me tonight," Spencer says, lips brushing over Brendon's ear, and Brendon shivers where he's trapped between the counter and Spencer's arms.

It isn't a question, but Brendon still replies, voice quiet, "Yeah, of course I am, Spence. Are you okay? You know--"

"Shh," Spencer says, nosing through Brendon's hair and trying to ignore the stale smell of smoke until he gets to Brendon's ear, where Brendon's skin still smells right. He kisses there, licking at Brendon's skin a little, and Spencer groans when Brendon shivers in his arms and shifts back against him.

"Brendon, come see this!" Shane yells from the other room, and Brendon jumps, turning around quickly in Spencer's arms, his eyes dark but wide with apology.

"I should--"

"My bed," Spencer repeats in a low voice, so rough it's almost a growl, and Brendon nods. He leans up, kissing Spencer on the mouth hard enough that Spencer has to take a step back, and when he turns back around to grab the beers, Spencer can see that he's blushing, can still smell his arousal as Brendon shuffles back into the other room.


	6. Chapter Six

Ryan keeps shooting Spencer amused but sympathetic looks while Spencer sits stiffly on one end of the love seat. He tries his very best to act normal, but he can't stop himself from watching Brendon like a hawk whenever he's near Shane. Jon pats him on the shoulder when he walks by to grab himself another beer, and Spencer grits his teeth as Shane scrolls through pictures on his camera, showing Brendon some awesome club he found that Brendon's going to go crazy about once he's home.

It sets Spencer even more on the edge, the way Shane keeps talking about "our home" and "our house," and if Spencer didn't know that he was incredibly crazy at the moment, he would be sure Shane was doing it on purpose, just to rub it in. Spencer's ridiculously glad when the Chinese food arrives, and even happier when Brendon gathers their food up and collapses next to Spencer on the love seat. Spencer is fully intending to reach for the pepper steak, he really is, but what he ends up with is Brendon's waist, and then he's pulling Brendon into his lap, and then Brendon is yelping, and then everyone is giving him looks that range from shocked (Shane) to gleefully amused (Ryan). Brendon, for his part, mostly looks pissed.

"Um," Spencer says.

"What did I say?" Brendon hisses at him.

"I didn't mean to," Spencer whines in response, but arms are still wrapped pretty firmly around Brendon's waist and he can't seem to make them let go.

"I swear to god," Brendon whispers, "I will feed all four containers of your beef to Jon and I will laugh while you cry."

Brendon doesn't sound like he's joking, and he's also holding chopsticks, and, well, Spencer really likes his pepper steak, so he takes a deep breath and forces himself to let go of Brendon, balling his hands up into fists at his sides to keep from reaching back out for him.

"Ahahaha," Brendon laughs awkwardly. "So, Shane, how's your moo shu?"

"... Good?" Shane asks, his eyes flickering back and forth between Spencer and Brendon.

"Good, awesome," Brendon says. "That's great."

"Wow," Ryan says.

Spencer can't decide if he wants to die or if he wants to kill Ryan.

"So hey, dude," Jon says, "dude, Shane, zombies vs. ninjas, your thoughts?"

"Fucking ninjas," Shane says. "Obviously."

Spencer has never been happier with Jon's penchant for deep thoughts about zombies. Brendon rolls his eyes at Spencer but he sits back down beside him when Spencer gives him an imploring look. Before long Brendon's leaning into his side, taking bites of beef from Spencer's chopsticks when he holds them out.

Spencer knows he's being a dick. He knows it. Brendon's already told him that Shane knows about them, that Shane's known for a while and was mostly just happy even if he did make fun of Brendon for taking so long. It doesn't mean that Spencer has exactly processed that beyond, "Good, he'd better know," though. He's being a massive, massive dick, but he can't make himself stop. Maybe it would have been easier if Brendon had just gone ahead and told Shane that Spencer was a werewolf. It would have at least been a convenient excuse.

Spencer is really, honestly not thinking about it when he slides his arm around Brendon's waist and tucks his thumb in the waistband of Brendon's jeans. It's mostly habit at this point, and Spencer's pretty sure that's why Brendon doesn't say anything, just tilts his head onto Spencer's shoulder and presses lightly up into the touch. Spencer can smell Brendon's arousal start to stir and he slides his hand lower into Brendon's pants, rubbing his fingers down until they push through his hair and graze the base of Brendon's cock. Brendon's scent gets stronger all at once, and he pushes his hips forward before going stiff and jerking away from Spencer, scrambling back until he's pressed against the opposite arm of the love seat. It's impressively fast, but Brendon is glaring at him and Shane is looking awkwardly down at his food, and Spencer is pretty sure there was a time when he was not a sex-crazed asshole. That time is apparently long past, though, because Spencer has to make a conscious effort to stick the hand he'd had on Brendon's cock under his thigh instead of bringing it up to his face and breathing in deep. He's so, so fucked.

So fucked, in fact, that Spencer completely ignores all the conversation and whatever is playing on TV in favor of trying to control himself. He's not even conscious of it at first, of the way he keeps wanting to inch closer to Brendon, but after the sixth time he has to stop himself from trying to move down the couch, Spencer gives up.

"Spence," Brendon says quietly, warningly, when Spencer scoots down the couch until he's pressed close to Brendon, pretending he wants to try some of Brendon's food.

"Mmm," Spencer says, taking a bite. He uses his free hand to pat at Brendon's thigh and just kind of keeps it there. Brendon's leg is warm, solid, and also it's Spencer's.

"Okay," Ryan says after a minute, his voice loud enough that Spencer can't ignore him. "Okay, this is just hilarious now."

"I don't see what possibly be funny about your sesame chicken," Spencer says, deliberately ignoring Ryan.

"You know what sesame chicken reminds me of?" Ryan says. "It reminds me of that time we went to that buffet and that hostess told Shane and Brendon that they made a lovely couple, and Brendon played along the entire time and Shane just kept blushing. It was adorable," Ryan says, and by the end he's not even pretending to hide the fact that he's laughing at Spencer's pain.

Spencer digs his nails into his palm, hard, but he still lets out a low growl and squeezes Brendon's thigh, and Brendon stands up suddenly, setting his carton on the floor.

"Okay," he announces. "Ryan, you're a dick, and I'm going upstairs. Put my food away and don't eat it, asshole," Brendon says to Ryan before smiling awkwardly at Shane and heading up the stairs. Spencer's kind of frozen for a second, because he doesn't know if that was an invitation or an "and you are staying down here too, dick," but luckily Brendon pauses halfway up the stairs and sharply hisses, "Spencer," too low for the others to hear.

"I'm just gonna--" Spencer says, getting to his feet and shuffling around a little before setting his food down next to Brendon's. "Tired, you know," he says, faking a wide yawn.

"Dude," Ryan says, "that's just embarrassing."

Jon snickers, and Shane offers him a stilted wave as Spencer turns on his heel and hurries up the stairs.

-

Spencer opens the door hesitantly, ready to apologize and possibly grovel, but instead Brendon just kind of tackles him and presses him against the wall. With his mouth.

"Um?" Spencer says when Brendon pulls back after a moment.

"We're talking about this," Brendon says, breathing a little heavily and staring at Spencer darkly. He smells really turned on and Spencer's trying to figure out what changed between Brendon looking pissed off downstairs and now.

"Right," Spencer says quickly, trying to calm down and stop focusing on how Brendon smells. "No, no, I know, we totally have to talk about--" Brendon kisses him again.

"You're being a fucking asshole," Brendon says against his mouth, biting down on Spencer's lip.

"Not on purpose," Spencer says, groaning when Brendon bites down and rocks his hips up hard against Spencer's. "It's a werewolf thing, and Shane keeps touching you."

"Shane's my friend," Brendon hisses, his nails digging into the back of Spencer's neck as he pulls Spencer's head down so he can deepen the kiss.

"He kissed you that one time," Spencer grits out, his hips jerking forward suddenly when Brendon yanks on his hair.

"I kissed him on a fucking dare while I was drunk," Brendon says, tugging at Spencer's hair until Spencer has to look down and meet Brendon's eyes. They're dark and angry and turned on and Spencer knows it's fucked up, but Brendon has never, ever smelled better. "Trust me," Brendon says, staring intently at Spencer. "I don't want to fuck Shane."

Brendon grinds his hips up slowly against Spencer's, holding his gaze, and Spencer growls low and deep, grabbing at Brendon's hips and pulling him closer. "We're still talking about this," Brendon says, his voice rough and low.

"Totally," Spencer replies, sucking at the corner of Brendon's jaw.

"After," Brendon says against Spencer's mouth. "We're talking about this after." Brendon's already hard against Spencer's thigh, and he's biting at Spencer's lips every time they kiss, and that sounds like a pretty good plan.

"Absolutely," Spencer says, leaning back down to get at Brendon's mouth, letting himself kiss hungrily like he's wanted to ever since Shane arrived.

"Okay, glad that's settled," Brendon groans, tilting his head back as Spencer kisses at the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and down to Brendon's neck. The noise reminds Spencer that Shane is just downstairs, and the thought makes Spencer's wolf brain perk up, liking the thought of Shane hearing, of Shane knowing that Brendon is his. He flips their positions, pinning Brendon to the wall now, his hands gripping tightly at Brendon's hips. Brendon makes a strangled moaning noise, the back of his head hitting the wall with a thunk, and without thinking, Spencer asks, "Do you want them to hear you?"

"Fuck," Brendon groans out. "Spencer--"

Spencer presses his hips forward, hard against Brendon's, and Brendon moans loud and sudden. "You do want him to hear you," Spencer growls, pressing even closer.

"Shut up," Brendon says, "I want you to fuck me already, dammit."

"I want him to hear you," Spencer says, grinding his hips up and squeezing at Brendon's hips tighter than he should. "Want him to know you're mine." Brendon lets out a noise that's mostly a whine and tries to squirm free so he can spread his legs, get more friction. "Mine," Spencer repeats, staring down at Brendon's flushed face.

"Yes, yes," Brendon says, grabbing at Spencer's shoulders to haul his face back down, kissing him hard on the mouth, their teeth clacking together. He's still squirming impatiently against Spencer, arching his hips until Spencer presses his thigh back between Brendon's legs, finally letting him grind against it. It's seriously so hot, how good Brendon smells and how much he's turned on. A little fucked up, considering, but really, really hot.

Spencer presses his face into the crook of Brendon's neck, breathing deep and pulling hard at Brendon's shirt until all the buttons pop open. Brendon makes a frustrated noise and Spencer waits for the lecture about How To Treat Brendon's Shirts, but instead Brendon's reaching forward, trying to get Spencer undressed. Spencer presses a wet kiss to Brendon's collarbone and then pulls back, letting Brendon tug his shirt up over his head. Brendon drops his hands to Spencer's belt almost immediately, fumbling with the buckle.

"Fuck," he hisses, yanking at it. "This was so much easier when we wore sweatpants all day."

"Shane's fault," Spencer says, because, well, it is.

"Shut up," Brendon says sternly, finally getting Spencer's belt unbuckled and going right for his fly. Spencer leans back in as soon as Brendon starts to push his pants and underwear down, and Brendon throws his head back against the wall with a loud thump when Spencer sucks at the hollow of his throat. Spencer's going to tell Brendon to be quiet, really he is, but then Brendon grabs at Spencer's ass, squeezing with both hands and trying to pull Spencer closer, and suddenly Spencer doesn't care who hears them. "Come on," he says, his hips jerking forward. Brendon's still wearing his pants, and the denim scratches at Spencer's cock in a way that's not entirely unpleasant but still pretty uncomfortable.

Spencer reluctantly pulls back, laughing breathlessly when he has to grab Brendon's arms and forcefully remove his hands from Spencer's ass. He kneels down and gets Brendon's pants and briefs off as Brendon runs his fingers through Spencer's hair, scratching at his scalp. There's a moment when Brendon's fingers tighten in Spencer's hair to keep his balance as he kicks off his pants, and Spencer groans, pressing Brendon back against the wall and using his hands to push at the inside of Brendon's thighs, spreading his legs wider apart. Brendon doesn't let go of Spencer's hair and Spencer's grateful for it, nuzzling slowly at the inside of Brendon's thigh, smelling where his arousal is so much stronger. Spencer sucks at the soft skin on the inside of Brendon's thighs, holding on to Brendon's hips to keep him still. It makes Brendon impatient much faster than usual, twitching forward under Spencer's hands when Spencer noses beneath Brendon's cock.

Spencer pulls back and grins up at him, and Brendon rolls his eyes and tugs hard on Spencer's hair. "Now," he says, pushing at Spencer's head. "I abandoned my kung pao for this, make it worth my while."

"Turn around," Spencer says, his voice low and intent, and Brendon's not joking anymore, he's just swallowing hard and letting go of Spencer's hair before slowly turning to face the wall. Spencer doesn't waste time teasing Brendon because he can't, fuck, he needs Brendon too much right now. He grabs at Brendon's ass and holds him open, leaning in and licking hard over him.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Brendon whines, spreading his legs a little wider and bracing himself against the wall as Spencer slides his tongue over Brendon's rim, smelling the way Brendon's arousal spikes when Spencer breathes in. "Spencer, please, please please please, I want--"

Spencer pulls back and laughs, nipping a little at the bottom curve of Brendon's ass and then grinning to himself when Brendon jumps. "I just started. Shhh, just stay like this so I can get you wet, okay?" Spencer doesn't wait for an answer and uses his palms to spread Brendon open again, licking with broad strokes over Brendon's hole. He can already feel the way Brendon's body tenses up with the wet pressure, and the way Brendon even starts to push back a little, his hands pressed flat to the wall. Spencer lets spit gather at the edge of his tongue and presses it into Brendon, licking into him and just squeezing at Brendon's ass when Brendon moans. He's squirming now, trying to press himself back onto Spencer's tongue, but Spencer squeezes tighter and holds him in place until he's sure that Brendon's wet enough before standing back up.

Spencer presses himself all along Brendon's back so he can bury his nose in Brendon's neck. He holds his hand up to Brendon's mouth and doesn't even have to say anything before Brendon's sucking his fingers in, licking over them wetly. "Fuck," Spencer hisses, pressing his hips forward just a little so his cock can drag over Brendon's ass. Brendon opens his mouth and sticks his ass out all at once, and Spencer would find it hilarious if it wasn't also really, really hot. Spencer doesn't want to pull back - Brendon smells too good, sweat already forming at his hairline - so he stays where he is as he presses a finger in. It's an uncomfortable angle for his hand, but Brendon pushes back immediately, rolling his hips, and fuck if Spencer cares.

Spencer slides another finger in once Brendon isn't clenching down as hard, and Brendon groans, rocking his hips back against Spencer's hand and panting. "Come on," he says after a minute or two. "Spence, come on, that's enough." He presses his ass back, clenching around Spencer's fingers, and Spencer is seriously tempted to just fuck Brendon like this, slide his fingers out and press his cock in and thrust in deep. But Brendon isn't open and wet enough yet, and anyway, Spencer wants to see Brendon's face. Brendon is his, and his wolf brain is insisting that Spencer make Brendon meet his eyes when Brendon comes so that Brendon knows exactly who he's with. Spencer wants to see that, wants it enough to give up pressing his face into the back of Brendon's neck and fucking him right now.

Spencer pulls back just enough to spit down the crack of Brendon's ass, and Brendon's barely done making a surprised noise when Spencer spins him around and presses in close. "Fuck," Brendon says, panting a little and grabbing at Spencer's shoulders.

"Sorry," Spencer says sheepishly, because it's possible he should have thought that one through a little more, but Brendon doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he smells even better, and Spencer's pretty sure he really did luck out with the fact that there isn't a lot that seems to be too filthy for Brendon. Brendon just groans and rocks forward, pushing his hips up until his cock slides wetly along Spencer's, and Spencer spits again, into his hand this time, stroking his cock before grabbing onto Brendon's waist and lifting him up. Brendon makes a surprised noise, but he just grabs at Spencer's shoulders even more tightly and wraps his legs around Spencer's waist. It brings their bodies closer, Spencer's cock now sliding down against Brendon's ass, rubbing slowly over his hole. Brendon whines at the feeling, trying to shift closer and get Spencer's cock inside, but Spencer doesn't let himself thrust forward yet.

"Are you sure? Are you wet enough, I don't--" Spencer's voice comes out rough, but he means it; he doesn't want to hurt Brendon. Brendon just nods frantically and says, "Yes, yes." Brendon's growing arousal is impossible to ignore, becoming thicker and stronger in the air around them, both of them sweating now.

"Fuck, okay," Spencer finally says, sliding his hands down to Brendon's ass and holding him open. Brendon shudders and clings tighter to Spencer's shoulders as Spencer's cock starts to press slowly inside. The stretch is rougher like this, and Spencer has to grit his teeth at how tight Brendon is, clenching hard around his cock, but then Brendon's hooking his legs fully around Spencer's waist, digging his heels into Spencer's ass.

Spencer grits his teeth and tries to hold back, letting his cock sink inside slowly in a way that almost burns. He still doesn't think Brendon's wet or open enough, but fuck, fuck, Brendon's so tight and hot around him, and Spencer just keeps pushing until he's as deep as he can get, his hips angled up. Brendon whines, arching back against the wall, pushing and wiggling and trying to get as close as he can to Spencer. He throws his head back, baring his throat, and Spencer knows it's absolutely on purpose, but he gives in anyway, pushing Brendon even harder against the wall and pressing his face into Brendon's neck, until there's barely room for their ribs to expand when they breathe.

"You are so fucking easy," Brendon gasps out, digging his heels even harder into Spencer's ass and squirming on Spencer's cock. He smells so good, so turned on, and Spencer licks at his neck, his jaw, behind his ear. Brendon whimpers a little when Spencer scrapes his teeth at the shell of Brendon's ear, clenching down around Spencer's cock.

"Mine," Spencer says into Brendon's ear before dropping his head to Brendon's shoulder and fucking up into Brendon slow and hard. They're so close that he can feel the sweat on Brendon's skin, feel when Brendon's cock starts to leak where it's trapped between their stomachs. Spencer groans, wishing he could bend down far enough to taste Brendon, but he has to settle for the smell of it drifting up each time Spencer pulls back before thrusting back in. He stays deep, grinding his cock into Brendon as he licks along the line of Brendon's shoulders and sucks at his collarbone.

"Spencer," Brendon hisses, digging his blunt nails into Spencer's shoulder's and trying to press down against him. "Please, come on," but Spencer just groans at the sharp sting of Brendon's nails and comes inside of him, hot and sudden, and his moan gets lost under the strangled, surprised noise Brendon makes. "Fuck," Brendon gasps out, clenching around Spencer's cock and trying to roll his hips down. "Fuck, Spencer, that never feels any less amazing."

"I know," Spencer says, his voice low and rough. "Fuck, the way it smells, Brendon, you don't even know. You smell so good, smell like mine," and Spencer's babbling now but he doesn't care, he just pulls back and starts to fuck Brendon again, the slide wet and slick now with his come. Spencer keeps his eyes on Brendon, watching the way his whole chest flushes pink, the way he bites at his bottom lip when Spencer presses in deep. "Look at me," Spencer says desperately. He feels hot and dizzy, and Brendon's all he can feel, all he can smell. "Brendon, please," Spencer groans, and Brendon blinks his eyes open slowly. He looks a little dazed, his eyes big and dark, and Spencer stills his hips, deep inside of Brendon, pressing as close as he can so he can get at Brendon's mouth, kiss him deep and wet.

Brendon kisses back immediately, sucking at Spencer's tongue and biting at his lip as his hands dig into Spencer's shoulders. Spencer hitches Brendon a little higher up the wall, and Brendon gasps against his mouth, clenching his whole body around Spencer, tightening around his cock and digging his heels and hands into Spencer to hold on. "It's okay," Spencer says, "I've got you, I promise, promise."

"I know," Brendon gasps. "It's not that, just... fuck, Spencer, please." Brendon's voice is raw, desperate, and Spencer can smell the frustration laced with arousal, but he wants this so much, wants to just stay deep like this, Brendon pinned to the wall. Spencer barely even notices Brendon's weight except where Brendon is pressing onto his cock, clinging to Spencer's shoulders and whining when Spencer starts to move but doesn't thrust. Spencer likes being this deep, likes watching Brendon's face as he flushes brighter, his teeth digging into his own lip and eyes blinking up heavily at Spencer when Spencer says his name. Spencer starts to move his hips in this slow, dirty grind that makes his cock drag inside Brendon, driving Brendon crazy because it's not the hard thrusts he wants, but Spencer can smell how turned on Brendon is, how good it must feel for him.

"Spencer," Brendon whines, tilting his head back, and Spencer surges forward to press his nose and mouth to Brendon's collarbone, trying to get deeper even though there's no deeper for him to go. Brendon lifts his head back up and stares down at Spencer, panting, and he finally starts to rock back a little with Spencer's grinding.

"Mine," Spencer growls, the sound rumbling against Brendon's hot skin, and he squeezes hard at Brendon's ass as Brendon moves a little frantically on Spencer's cock, working it inside of himself.

"Yours, yours," Brendon chokes out, and Spencer tries to hold back, he really does, but then Brendon strains his head back and exposes the pale length of his throat again and Spencer comes, just like that, shuddering and twitching with his cock pressed deep inside Brendon still.

"Oh my god," Brendon says shakily, clenching tightly around Spencer. "That is seriously so unfair. No more coming until you get me off," Brendon grits out, his voice going high and desperate at the end as Spencer starts to pull his hips back and snap them back up into Brendon. Spencer adjusts his grip on Brendon's ass, holding Brendon open as he bends his knees a little so he can get even deeper. He's fucking Brendon hard now, just how Brendon likes, his thrusts jarring Brendon against the wall with dull thumps that Spencer's pretty sure are carrying down to the living room. He knows he's still an asshole, but gets a dark, possessive thrill in his stomach at the thought of Shane hearing them fuck.

He can smell how close Brendon is, knows Brendon could come if Spencer was touching his cock right now. It feels so good though, deep inside of Brendon like this, fucking up into Brendon where he's hot and wet from Spencer's come. Spencer can feel how just wet he is, can feel where his come is dripping out of Brendon and down Spencer's cock, and it's fucking filthy and really, insanely hot. Brendon's got his head thrown back again, panting up at the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut, and Spencer buries his face in Brendon's neck, sucking and licking until Brendon drops his head back down, clinging to Spencer's shoulders and breathing raggedly into Spencer's ear.

"Spencer, please," Brendon begs, his voice sounding wrecked, and when Spencer lifts his head up Brendon doesn't look much better, his face flushed red and sweaty and his eyes big and wet. His thighs are trembling where they're wrapped around Spencer's hips, and Spencer pulls back just enough to watch the muscles in Brendon's stomach jump too, his cock hard and red and wet. Spencer's tempted to just walk Brendon over to the bed and pull out, lean down and suck Brendon's cock into his mouth so he can taste Brendon come, but Brendon's shaking, he's so close to coming, so instead Spencer moves one hand to the small of Brendon's back, holding him up so he can reach between their bodies with his free hand and get at Brendon's cock.

Brendon's entire body jerks when Spencer finally wraps his hand around Brendon's cock, and Spencer groans when Brendon squeezes down hard around him. "Please, please, yes," Brendon babbles, trying to thrust up into Spencer's hand and down onto his cock at the same time. It mostly results in a lot of squirming and gasping, but it's driving Spencer out of his mind. Brendon's smell is everywhere when he's close and desperate, in Spencer's nose and throat, and Brendon's cock is in his hand, wet and twitching. Spencer angles his hips up, thrusting hard into Brendon, and he barely gets two strokes in over Brendon's cock before Brendon cries out and comes, letting out what sounds mostly like a sob. Spencer jerks him through it, but he pulls his hand away as soon as he can manage, bringing it up to his mouth and licking off Brendon's come, sucking it off of his fingers and groaning at the taste.

"Oh god," Brendon says weakly, and he's still clenching around Spencer, still holding on tight. Spencer really hopes he's allowed to come now because he can't hold back, not with Brendon still tight around his cock and the taste of Brendon in his mouth. He moans around his own fingers and comes again, his cock jerking inside of Brendon. "Oh god," Brendon repeats, dropping his head to Spencer's shoulder. "Spencer, fuck, fuck," and Brendon's shaking, his entire body shuddering as his legs go limp around Spencer's waist. Spencer grabs on tight to Brendon's waist, and walks them over to the bed, Brendon clinging to him limply.

"Sorry," he says, once Spencer's leaning back against the pillows, still holding Brendon close to his chest. "I just-- I can't--"

"Shh," Spencer says, patting at Brendon's back as he gently pulls his hips back. He knows it's a lot for Brendon, the way he stays hard, and Brendon's told him more than once how strange it is, how it makes him feel raw and open when Spencer pulls out. "I know, shh," Spencer says, trying to pull out as gently as possible. Brendon still hiccups out a little gasp when Spencer's cock slides free, and Spencer wants nothing more than to lick at Brendon, or at least touch, but Brendon's still shivering a little, his hands shaky where they're clinging to Spencer's shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, tugging at the covers until he can pull them up over Brendon. Brendon must be pretty gone, because he's not even trying to move off of Spencer's chest. He's not pushing for a shower he knows they won't take, or arguing that he's too heavy to sleep on top of Spencer, or adding to the running tally of clothing Spencer has to replace, or any of his normal post-coital activities. He's just clinging to Spencer's shoulder's and breathing in raggedly against Spencer's neck, and Spencer rubs at the tight muscles at the small of Brendon's back with firm fingers until Brendon sighs and starts to relax against him.

"M'kay," Brendon mumbles sleepily after a minute, and he pulls back just enough to look down at Spencer. Brendon's eyes are drooping, heavy with sleep, but Spencer can still see the way they're a little wet at the corners, sticky with dried tears, and he leans in close, kissing gently at them.

"I'm sorry," Spencer says, kissing his way down from Brendon's eyes, over his cheeks and his nose and down to his jaw. "I'm sorry, Brendon, are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine," Brendon says. "It's fine, just... woah," Brendon says, his voice a little slurred. Spencer cups Brendon's cheek and kisses him softly, just brushing his lips against Brendon's, shallow and slow, until Brendon sighs against his mouth and drops his forehead forward to rest against Spencer's. "We still have to talk," Brendon whispers. "About earlier."

"I know," Spencer says, turning his face to kiss Brendon's cheek again. "In the morning, we will. Promise. Sleep time now, though."

"Awesome idea," Brendon says, his head drooping forward and sliding down to rest at Spencer's shoulder.

"The best," Spencer agrees, tightening his arms around Brendon's waist and tucking his nose behind Brendon's ear.

"G'night," Brendon says, his voice barely a whisper, and Spencer closes his eyes and waits for Brendon to start snoring lightly before he drifts off to sleep.

-

Spencer wakes up to find Brendon still curled up against his chest, blinking slowly up at Spencer, and just for a moment Spencer thinks he understands where Brendon's coming from when Brendon says it's creepy how sometimes Spencer watches him sleep.

"Morning," Spencer says, his voice gruff with sleep.

Brendon hums and lays his head back down on Spencer's chest. Spencer can feel him start to squirm a little, can hear Brendon's stomach make the rumbly noise it always makes when he's nervous. "I wasn't trying to be a dick," Spencer says preemptively. "I know I was a dick, and I know that 'I'm a werewolf' isn't an actual excuse every time I act like an idiot, but I swear I didn't mean to."

"It's not an excuse," Brendon repeats. "It definitely helps, but it's not an excuse." Spencer can feel Brendon relax a little, and he trails his hand down to pet at the side of Spencer's stomach, in the spot that makes him go all loose and happy. "I get it, Spence. I really do. This is all new and you don't even know how you're going to react to things, much less how to control it, but you have to try. I can't just stop hanging out with my friends to be with you all the time. It's unhealthy. I read an article about it in one of Ryan's Cosmos."

Spencer laughs, his chest going tight for a second with how much he loves Brendon. Which. Okay. Wow. It's not like Spencer didn't know, but just. Of course he loved Brendon, Brendon was one of his best friends, but. Huh. He loves Brendon, and all of a sudden everything makes a lot more sense in his head, everything clicking into place with sudden clarity. He loves Brendon, and he chose Brendon, and Brendon is his, which his wolf-brain apparently takes even more seriously than his regular Spencer-brain.

"I'm in love with you," Spencer says, matter-of-factly, because it seems stupidly big, seems like something Brendon should know. "So, just. Now you know."

Brendon lifts his head, staring up at Spencer with narrowed eyes. "You really are an idiot," Brendon says fiercely. "You're a big, dumb werewolf, oh my god."

It's not exactly the reaction Spencer was expecting. "I wasn't, like--" he trails off, stumbling on his words. "I just, if you didn't know, now you do, and it just makes me extra stupid sometimes, I think?" Spencer finishes, his voice growing more and more unsure.

"I knew, Spencer," Brendon says, slumping back down against Spencer's side. Brendon turns his face into Spencer's chest for a second before tilting his head up and kissing Spencer, softly at first before kissing him deeper, pulling back to rest his forehead against Spencer's while he draws in deep breaths. "I love you, Spence. I thought you knew that, but now I realize you're a total moron, so I'll give you a pass."

"Yeah?" Spencer asks, grinning, a little giddy with how light his chest feels.

"Yeah," Brendon says, laughing against Spencer's mouth. "Yeah, I love you. And now that we've established that, do you think you can at least try to act less like you want to rip my best friend's throat out?"

"Maybe?" Spencer asks, leaning down to press his nose to Brendon's neck, lapping lightly at one of the bruises there.

"That's really comforting," Brendon says, clutching at the back of Spencer's head when Spencer sucks over his bruised skin. "So glad we had this talk."

-

Spencer, personally, thinks he is awesome. He didn't make an ass of himself at all during breakfast, or while they played some new stuff for Shane, or even during lunch when Shane stole fries from Brendon's plate, and he really, really wanted to be an ass then because Brendon needed those fries. When Shane asks to go hiking after lunch so he can get some shots of the woods, Spencer almost jumps at the chance. Brendon gives him a warning look and goes upstairs to change, and Spencer really hopes he doesn't try to go hiking in flip-flops again, because last time had been a disaster and he is not carrying Brendon home on his back again.

Brendon's wearing actual shoes when he comes downstairs again, but they're about the only sensible thing he has on. "What," Spencer says, "the fuck are you wearing?"

"It got kind of cold last time," Brendon says, shrugging into his white blazer.

"But..."

Shane wanders by and claps Spencer on the back. "He once wore a down vest to a pool party, dude. Losing battle."

Spencer's torn between being pissed and amused, so instead he just shakes his head and snaps Brendon's obnoxious orange sweatband against his forehead on his way to the living room.

"Whatever," Brendon says. "I make this work."

"No, you do not," Ryan says, but he's also wearing a silk vest and alligator boots to hike in, so Spencer's pretty sure he doesn't get to judge.

"If we're not out the door in two minutes, I'm taking Spencer on his walk myself and I'm feeding all of these snacks to the furry woodland creatures," Jon says, shaking his backpack full of random food threateningly.

Shane shoots Jon a weird look, and Spencer should be offended but Jon kind of turns into someone's dad whenever they're trying to get somewhere. He's also generally the only reason Ryan isn't fifteen minutes late for everything anymore, though, so Spencer doesn't mind. Brendon pecks Spencer on the cheek and follows Shane out the door. Spencer takes a deep breath, clenches his jaw, and makes himself wait a whole three minutes until Ryan's ready to leave to walk out of the front door behind Jon. He considers it personal growth.

-

Being out in the woods is something Spencer seriously took for granted before he got bitten and his senses became a hundred times more intense. And it's not just the smells - the dirt and the leaves and the animals - but the sounds, too. Spencer used to enjoy the occasional tour stop by a forest because of how quiet things were when there were no cars or planes, but now it's like Spencer's senses are way more overwhelmed by all the wildlife around him than he ever was by the city. Spencer's so distracted by the smells and trying to remember not to do something stupid like mention the animals he can smell in front of Shane, that it takes him a few seconds to realize they've stopped.

Shane's peering over the edge of an cliff and taking some shots while Jon eyes Ryan warily when he wanders too close to the edge. Brendon's just kind of standing there, conspicuously still, and Spencer has to stifle a laugh when he realizes what's going on. Brendon's been kind of twitchy the whole way, more than usual, anyway, and he manages to stand still for a whole two minutes before he starts fidgeting in earnest, running his hands through his hair and pushing his sleeves up. It's enough to draw Ryan's attention away from the weird looking tree he's trying to point out to Jon.

"You want to take off that blazer, don't you?" Ryan says smugly.

"No, I do not," Brendon says, far too quickly. "I've just got a... thing. An itchy thing. On my back."

"Brendon," Jon says, "just admit that the jacket was a dumb idea."

"It was not a dumb idea, and all you guys are going to cry like tiny helpless infants when you get cold, and I'm just going to laugh."

"If you admit it was a dumb idea," Jon says patiently, "I'll let you put it in my backpack."

Spencer snickers at how wide Brendon's eyes get, darting around furtively.

"Traitor," Brendon hisses at him.

"Brendon, buddy, just admit it," Shane says, turning around and snapping a quick picture of Brendon where he's standing next to Spencer, looking over the edge of the cliff.

"This is a timed offer," Jon says, walking over and unzipping his backpack, holding it out invitingly.

"Fuck you all," Brendon says, but he strips out of the ridiculous thing in about two seconds and tosses it at Jon, fanning himself in relief.

"Sick, dude, this entire thing smells like sweat," Jon gripes, shoving it down into his backpack.

Spencer grins at Brendon and darts in, licking at the sweat on his temple, and Brendon pushes him off, laughing as he turns around and heads back down the trail.

-

It takes Brendon a whole fifteen minutes to decide to strip off his shirt, and Spencer's oddly proud of him for holding out that long.

"Dude," Shane says. "Spencer, dude."

Spencer tears his eyes away from Brendon's back long enough to glance over at Shane, who's staring back with wide eyes. "I'm kind of impressed," he says, "but also a little weirded out."

"What?" Spencer asks, because Shane is kind of an oblique guy sometimes and it would not be the first time he's had to have Brendon translate.

"He's talking about the fact that Brendon's a fucking nudist and you're not subtle," Ryan says rolling his eyes. "You're going to have to knock that shit off before tour. Or maybe we can claim Brendon is a sex addict. Free press."

"We're not claiming-- what even?" Spencer asks again because he is seriously missing something here.

"The hickeys, man," Jon says, grabbing Brendon by the belt loop and pulling until Brendon stops and turns around. "Plus the bruises, which please don't ever tell me about. Unless you need to talk, Brendon," Jon says, his voice going hilariously earnest at the offer. Which, oh. Yeah. Brendon's kind of covered in marks.

"I appreciate the offer," Brendon says with a mock bow, "but I am not ashamed of my sexuality."

Spencer blushes on instinct, but, yeah. There is definitely a part of him enjoying the fact that Shane saw his marks on Brendon. He still sometimes feels guilty when he sees the bruises on Brendon's hips, but Brendon doesn't exactly complain, and if anything Spencer's pretty sure he likes it. He's caught Brendon's fingers wandering over his own skin sometimes, pressing his fingertips to bruises and marks. Besides, Brendon looks really hot and Brendon is his, so Shane can just deal with it. Spencer tries to avoid everyone's eyes, but he doesn't miss the wink Brendon throws his way.

"That doesn't mean the rest of us aren't ashamed of your sexuality," Shane says after a moment.

"Whatever," Brendon says. "Who drove you to the ER that time you broke your nose when Regan--"

"Yeah okay," Shane says, blushing. "Okay, whatever, good job on the hickeys, that's enough talking."

"This one time?" Jon says as he starts walking again. "I was having sex in this Camry, and I kicked the gear shift, and the car started moving while we were still hanging halfway out the door."

"That did not happen to you," Ryan says. "That is an urban legend."

"Not true," Shane says. "It happened to this guy I knew in high school."

"That is what everyone says," Ryan insists. "But it never actually happens to anyone. It's like the gerbil thing, or those jelly bracelets. Or the one about the girl and the hotdog."

"That jelly bracelet thing really is bullshit," Brendon says sadly. "I wore pink and blue ones around for like months."

"You do know pink meant rimming, right?" Ryan asks. "Why am I even asking this?"

"It did not, it meant kissing," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "And blue was blowjobs."

"It absolutely meant rimming," Spencer says, shrugging apologetically at Brendon. "Who would advertise that they're into kissing. Everyone's into kissing in high school."

"You guys are just trying to pervert my childhood," Brendon says.

"Yes. How dare we try to make something dirty out of you trying to score sex through rubber bracelets," Ryan says. "We might as well show you those pictures of Bert fisting Ernie on the internet again."

"Please, no," Jon says. "That was so not cool."

"Wait," Shane says. "Wait, what? No."

"Oh man," Brendon says excitedly. "Oh man, just wait until we get back to the house."

-

They manage to get back on track after a truly scarring conversation about some website Shane found that specializes in Disney Princess porn, and Spencer really, really tries not to think about pushing Brendon up against a tree and giving him some more marks, but he doesn't do a very good job. It's not like it's his fault. Brendon's in front of him, his back starting to shine with sweat and his scent, fuck. Spencer can't take staring at a half-naked and hickey-covered Brendon, not with the normal sensory overload of the woods already driving him out of his mind. He speeds up his steps and hurries closer to Brendon, trailing behind him and touching the small of Brendon's back, because he wants nothing more than to bury his face into the crook of Brendon's neck right now and never, ever move.

Brendon tilts his head to look at Spencer, smiling, but when he catches the look in Spencer's eyes a few seconds later, he slows down. Spencer reaches out a little farther to cup Brendon's hip, pressing his fingers lightly into the bruises there, and he almost groans out loud at the way Brendon's arousal spikes.

"Um," Brendon says, clearing his throat, "you guys go up ahead! Spencer wants to go stalk a deer or something, we'll catch up later."

"What? Why would Spencer--" Shane starts, but Ryan interrupts him.

"Huge Bambi fan, it's a thing," Ryan says, throwing an arm around Shane's shoulder and shuffling him farther down the trail.

"C'mon," Brendon says, grabbing Spencer's arm and pulling him off into the woods, ducking through the trees until they're a few yards away from the trail.

"We don't have to--" Spencer says, but Brendon cuts him off, pressing in close and going up on his toes a bit to get at Spencer's mouth.

"Do you want to?" Brendon says when he pulls away. "Because if not, it is really not fair to poke at my bruises like that, jesus." He's still pressed all along Spencer's body and Spencer wraps his arms around Brendon's waist, splaying his hands across Brendon's back. His skin is warm from the sun and damp from sweat and yes, fuck yes, Spencer wants to.

"I really, really do," Spencer says, giving in and ducking his head down to press his nose to Brendon's neck, licking over the salty skin and taking in Brendon's scent. "But we should-- Shane's here and I'm trying, I am--"

"I know," Brendon says soothingly, walking them backwards until Spencer's back is pressed against a tree. "And you've been doing awesome, and this will just help you relax, is all," Brendon says, wiggling one of his legs between Spencer's. Brendon's already hard enough that Spencer can feel him through their jeans, and he presses his thigh forward, pushing Brendon closer with a hand on the small of his back.

"What about you?" Spencer asks, gasping a little when Brendon leans forward to suck at his collarbone. "What are you getting out of this deal?"

"Outdoor sex with my hot werewolf boyfriend?" Brendon asks, his hips rocking down against Spencer's thigh. "You look seriously hot in that shirt, okay? You're not the only one who's easily distracted."

Spencer grins down at Brendon, sliding his hand up and down Brendon's spine. "You look seriously hot without a shirt," Spencer says, stating the obvious.

"You just like the hickeys," Brendon says, groaning a little when Spencer ducks his head to suck at one of the marks on the side of Brendon's neck.

"I like the everything," Spencer says, moving down Brendon's neck to his collarbone, following the trail of hickeys with his mouth. He sucks and licks at them until they start to flush red and fresh again.

"That's nice," Brendon says, his heartbeat picking up and his scent getting stronger and stronger. "But how about we have some sex now?"

"I was getting there," Spencer huffs, using his hand flat over Brendon's back to pull Brendon closer. "You didn't let me--"

Brendon leans up and kisses Spencer hard on the mouth. Spencer starts to kiss back after a few seconds, his teeth catching at Brendon's bottom lip and dragging when Brendon starts to rock harder against Spencer's thigh, seeking friction.

"C'mon," Brendon pants, voice strained, and Spencer wants to tease him but it's just too hot, how desperate Brendon is, his skin all slick and his chest starting to flush. Spencer knows they don't have a lot of time, so he trails his lips down to Brendon's jaw, the underside of his chin, pressing fast kisses to the fresh marks as he reaches down to undo their pants.

"Yes, good idea," Brendon babbles, his voice breaking off in a moan when Spencer gets his hand around Brendon's cock. Brendon's hard, his cock warm and full in Spencer's hand, and he hisses and tilts his head to the side when Spencer starts to stroke.

Spencer isn't exactly sure how this is supposed to be relaxing, not when Brendon baring his neck makes heat stir deep in Spencer's belly, making him want more, all of Brendon, now. He presses his nose to the hollow of Brendon's throat and makes a surprised noise when Brendon grabs his hand, pulling it away from his cock and licking over Spencer's palm wetly. Spencer groans at the feeling and then Brendon's reaching down to get Spencer's cock out as well, giving it a few strokes. Spencer loves Brendon's hand, loves Brendon's everything, but he arches his hips up and circles his fist around both their cocks, starting to stroke loosely when Brendon lets go of Spencer with a gasp.

"Shit, Spence, don't stop," Brendon says, and yeah, Spencer really doesn't have any intention to. Spencer can practically feel Brendon's pulse where their cocks are touching, rubbing and sliding together in Spencer's grip. Spencer strokes a little harder, the heat building and growing fast, and instead of holding back when he's close, Spencer latches back onto one of the hickeys at Brendon's collarbone and comes, wet over both their cocks and a little on Brendon's stomach as he sucks on Brendon's skin.

"Shit, shit," Brendon whines, and Spencer looks down to where their cocks are now slick with Spencer's come, Brendon's still looking swollen and dark. Spencer likes his come on Brendon, likes the way it smells and makes Brendon his, and Spencer's letting go of their cocks just like that, sliding to his knees as Brendon whines at the loss of contact.

Spencer doesn't waste any time, reaching up to hold on to Brendon's hips and taking Brendon's cock into his mouth. He sinks all the way down and sucks hard, groaning around Brendon as the taste of them hits the back of his throat. Brendon whines, his hands gripping Spencer's hair as Spencer sucks at him. Brendon jerks forward and Spencer squeezes around his hips, his fingers sliding slickly through the come on Brendon's stomach.

Spencer groans, his own hips jerking forward from the smell of his come wet over Brendon's skin, marking him, making him Spencer's. Spencer isn't really thinking when he starts using his thumbs to rub his come over Brendon's stomach, swallowing around Brendon's cock. Brendon whines, jerking forward, his fingers tugging painfully at Spencer's hair as he comes, wet and hot in Spencer's mouth. Spencer swallows, pulling off of Brendon's cock wetly and dropping one of his hands down to his cock, jerking roughly while he licks over Brendon.

"So hot, Spence," Brendon mumbles, and Spencer's hand tightens around Brendon's hip, his thumb still rubbing over Brendon's stomach, rubbing his come into Brendon's skin even as it dries. Spencer noses at the base of Brendon's cock, the smell and the heat almost too much for him, and his body tenses up again as he comes over his fist, mouthing at the inside of Brendon's thigh, the skin soft and still shaking from his orgasm.

Spencer could come again, he knows he could, but he can barely hear the others anymore even when he tries, so he pulls his hand from his cock reluctantly and tilts his head back when Brendon tugs at his hair. He looks up at Brendon, who's flushed and sweating, his eyes big and bright, and groans when Brendon reaches down for his hand, pulling it up and sucking Spencer's fingers into his mouth, licking over his knuckles, cleaning him up.

Spencer whines high in his throat, his hips jerking forward, and he's so tempted to tell Brendon to keep sucking, to slide his wet fingers into Brendon's ass and fuck him right here on the ground. Brendon bites down hard on the pad of Spencer's middle finger, pulling back with a wet pop.

"No," he says, his voice still rough and low. "We have to get back. I know what you're thinking, and no."

"Was not," Spencer mumbles sheepishly.

"Was too, and I know what you're doing too," Brendon says, glancing down at where Spencer's thumb is still rubbing circles over Brendon's skin even though his come is long dry.

"Oops?" Spencer tries. It really wasn't intentional at first. Kind of.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Brendon groans, pulling back from Spencer and yanking his underwear and pants back up, tucking his cock in and doing up his fly. "There is no reason at all I should find this anything but annoying as hell, and yet."

"It's because you loooove me," Spencer says, drawing the word out with a smirk. He's on his knees on the forest floor, his cock hanging out of his pants, and Brendon loves him.

"Don't make me rethink that," Brendon says sternly, but his eyes are bright and happy and he's smiling at Spencer. Spencer rises quickly to his feet, catching Brendon around the waist.

"You love me," Spencer repeats, pressing closer and nuzzling his nose in behind Brendon's ear.

"Yeah," Brendon says, his voice soft, "Yeah, I love you," and he hugs Spencer hard before pulling back and kissing him. It's wet and deep and it doesn't last nearly long enough before Brendon's pulling away, squirming out of Spencer's arms and grabbing his shirt from the ground, where it had fallen from his back pocket.

"I love you," Brendon repeats, "but you are seriously lucky I didn't put my shirt in Jon's backpack too, or you would be the one explaining why I have dried come all over my stomach."

"I think that's pretty self-explanatory," Spencer says smugly, but he glances quickly down at his own shirt to make sure he's not covered in come.

"Put your dick back in your pants, jackass, and come on," Brendon says with a grin, turning and heading back toward the trail.

-

Spencer's doing well. He's doing great, he's doing awesome, he's a fucking rock star, and he absolutely does not want to tear Shane's camera out of his hands and throw it against the wall so he'll stop pointing it at Brendon. Not even a little.

Only, he totally does. Not to mention Spencer knows he's staring at Brendon, knows that Shane is filming and getting every single second of it on camera, but he doesn't care. He plays mostly on reflex, staring at Brendon when he struts around and when he stays still and when he starts to dance while laughing widely. Spencer tosses another broken stick onto the pile off to his side when Brendon points at Shane with an exaggerated leer while singing about true love. The fact that he only breaks a stick and not Shane's neck says a lot, he thinks, and Spencer fully intends to make Brendon praise him for his extraordinary personal growth. Possibly he will suggest that Brendon praise him with his mouth.

Spencer's so distracted by thoughts of Brendon's mouth that he only vaguely hears Ryan call break, and when he looks up Brendon is bent over the back of Shane's chair, looking at something on the display on his camera. Spencer's fists clench around his sticks, but he makes himself take a deep breath and close his eyes and count to ten. Only when he opens his eyes, Shane has his head turned, his nose brushing the side of Brendon's neck as his fingers brush at Brendon's nape. Spencer jumps up so quickly that his drum throne crashes to the floor, and the growl that rips out of his throat is so loud that it even startles him. He's storming toward Shane, his teeth bared, and it's scary, fucking terrifying, the way he's trying desperately to make his feet stop moving with no luck.

Brendon's face goes slack as he jerks away from Shane, holding his hands out in front of him, and it makes Spencer sick, the fear he sees on Brendon's face. Spencer distantly feels someone's arms wrap around him from behind, and his brain registers, hey, that's Jon, it's cool, calm down, but his wolf-brain has other ideas. He shrugs Jon off easily, sending him sprawling to the floor. He can hear Brendon when he says, "Shane, leave. Go, now," and Spencer tries to stop, he does, but he can't. It's not until Brendon hurls himself at Spencer's chest, clinging to his neck and practically climbing him, that Spencer stutters to a stop.

"Mine," he says helplessly, backing Brendon up against the wall and sniffing at his neck, his ear, his hands running up and down Brendon's body, checking for something Spencer's actual, logical Spencer brain can't comprehend.

"Yes," Brendon says, staying still while Spencer sniffs and touches at him. "Yours, Spencer, it's okay. Hey, shh, it's okay," and it's not until Brendon tentatively raises his hands and runs them along Spencer's arms, up and down his back, that he realizes he's shaking.

"Sorry," Spencer chokes out, collapsing against Brendon, burying his face in the crook of Brendon's neck and breathing in and out in big, shaky gulps. "Sorry, sorry," he says, again and again, and he distantly registers Ryan and Jon leaving the room, closing the door softly behind them. "Jon," Spencer says, pulling back just a little. "Jon, I pushed him, is he okay?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, pushing lightly at Spencer's shoulders until Spencer stumbles back a step. "He's okay, Spence, but what even-- what happened?"

"Shane," Spencer spits, starting to pace back and forth in a short, straight line. "He was smelling you, and--" Spencer stops, clenching his fists as a fresh wave of anger tries to wash over him.

"No," Brendon says softly, stepping forward and stilling Spencer with a hand to his shoulder. "No, Spence, he was fixing the tag, in my shirt."

"Your neck," Spencer gasps out, feeling relieved and ashamed and still a little pissed. "He was-- your neck," he tries again, but he knows how it sounds, knows that it's no excuse, and he can see it, in Brendon's eyes, that Brendon's a little scared and more than a little pissed and Spencer kind of wants to cry, probably would be crying if he could make himself stop being so angry.

"I'm sorry," Spencer says again after a moment, slumping down to the floor. He sounds desperate and raw but it's nothing compared to how he feels, like he just fucked up everything, like it's only a matter of time until everything's going to fall down around him. He drops his head to his hands and sits there, shaking with leftover adrenaline. Brendon's still mad. Spencer can tell from the way he's tense and he smells wrong, and Spencer's not expecting it when Brendon sits down beside him. He's expecting it even less when Brendon kisses at his thumb, his knuckles, pulling Spencer's hands away from his face gently and kissing at his temple.

Brendon doesn't say anything, and he still smells so wrong, upset and scared and worried, but he pulls Spencer down, tipping him over until Spencer's head is in Brendon's lap and Brendon is stroking his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Spencer takes a few shaky inhales before forcing himself to breathe in deep, even, and he clutches at Brendon's pants leg, holding on tight until he finally stops shaking.


	7. Chapter Seven

The door creaks open what feels like hours later, and Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, tensing up when he smells Shane walk in with Jon and Ryan.

"Spencer," Ryan says softly, "we think you should tell Shane why you tried to murder him."

"He didn't try to murder anyone," Brendon snaps, leaning over Spencer's body a little. It's a protective move, a claiming one, and he knows Brendon's still pissed, but Spencer's chest loosens anyway, just a little. "But maybe it's a good idea," Brendon says, his voice lower, softer, just for Spencer.

Spencer nods against Brendon's leg and swallows heavily, pushing himself up out of Brendon's lap until he's sitting up. He throws a quick look at Jon, relieved to see Jon totally intact and smiling at Spencer encouragingly. Shane's looking at him with wide eyes, confused and curious, and Spencer takes a deep breath.

"So I was at this party," Spencer says shakily, "and I heard this noise, and--"

"Spencer's a werewolf," Ryan says, cutting Spencer off.

"Ryan," Jon says.

"He was taking too long." Ryan shrugs. "It's not that complicated."

Shane laughs, high and nervous, and looks around at them, eyes darting. "Look," he says, "whatever, so Spencer's a little intense about Brendon, it's cool. I get it. Things are new."

"No, seriously," Brendon says, settling his hand firm on Spencer's lower back. "Spencer's a werewolf, and when you tucked in my tag he saw you by my neck and flipped out. It's really close the full moon and he hasn't been a werewolf for very long, so it's kind of hard to know how he's going to react to things."

"Look," Shane repeats. "Any other day I would find this all very funny, but please don't fuck with me right now."

"Shane," Spencer says, standing up slowly and reaching down to help Brendon to his feet. "You haven't showered in about three days," he says, sniffing at the air, "you either stole Jon's deodorant or you use the same kind, you definitely stole one of Ryan's lady cigarettes, and you jerked off on the phone last night while talking to Regan about her pedicure."

"I-- what?" Shane sputters.

"I knew you were way too into giving her foot rubs," Brendon says triumphantly.

"No really, what?" Shane asks again, his eyes wide.

"Were-woooooooooooolf," Ryan repeats slowly. "And stay away from my cigarettes, they're imported. From France."

"You buy them in bulk off the internet, Ryan," Brendon says, rolling his eyes.

"I import them," Ryan insists.

"Guys," Shane says, holding his hands out and blinking slowly. "Seriously, if this is a joke, or, like, if you all got really stoned this morning, now is the time to tell me."

"I got really stoned this morning," Jon says. "But also Spencer's an actual werewolf."

"That's--" Shane starts, "I--" he stares at Spencer kind of helplessly before letting out a long breath and dropping his head to his hands, breaking out in high-pitched, only slightly hysterical giggles.

"I thought you were just really weird," Shane says breathlessly, and Spencer blinks, taken aback.

"I'm not weird," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're a little weird," Brendon says, pressing closer and sliding his hand just under Spencer's shirt, stroking at his skin.

"So, yeah," Spencer says, ignoring Brendon and shuffling his feet. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

"Hey, yeah," Shane says slowly. "It, you know. It happens. When you're a werewolf. A werewolf."

Spencer's pretty sure Shane is still in shock, but right now he'll take what he can get.

-

They spend a few long, stressful hours downstairs. Shane wants to watch Lord of the Rings, and Spencer makes it through the first movie and part of the second, sitting curled up in the corner of the love seat feeling nauseous and worried. Shane's been cool about things - really cool about things, actually, but it only makes Spencer feel like an even bigger dick. Shane shouldn't be sitting on the couch laughing and drinking beer while Jon shares his deep thoughts on hobbits. None of them should be, and Spencer knows everyone's acting like things are fine for his benefit, and he knows that he should be grateful, but instead he's just sick.

Brendon's lying against the opposite end of the love seat, and even though his feet are in Spencer's lap, toes tucked between Spencer's thighs, Spencer knows he's still mad. It's almost comforting, in a way, knowing that Brendon's upset, knowing he's not just pretending like this isn't happening, but Spencer can't stand the way he smells, can't stand knowing it's his fault. Spencer makes it until everyone is arriving at Helm's Deep before he just can't take it anymore. He shifts Brendon's feet out of his lap and stands up, mumbling something about being tired. He nearly jogs up the stairs, yanking the door to his room open and stumbling to his bed, sitting down heavily and dropping his head between his knees, breathing in deep. The air smells like Brendon - everything in the room smells like Brendon - and Spencer groans, standing up shakily to throw the window open.

Spencer sticks his head out of the window and takes a few deep, calming breaths. He stands there for a few minutes, just breathing in, trying to ignore the weird itch under his skin. It's this strange pull he feels this close to the moon, like he just wants to rip his clothes off and run through the forest, roll in the dirt and throw his head back and howl. Spencer's honestly considering just finding himself a nice cave somewhere in the forest and spending the rest of his days as a werewolf hermit when he hears Brendon start up the stairs, hears the door creak open and Brendon step into the room.

"Hey," Brendon says softly. He doesn't move from the doorway, doesn't come any closer, and Spencer's throat aches. "Spence, you okay?" Brendon asks, and he's worried, Spencer can hear it in his voice. He's worried and sad and closed off, and Spencer doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to hear whatever Brendon has to say. Brendon isn't leaving, though, and Spencer finally turns around.

"Oh, you know. I've been better," Spencer mumbles, trying to ignore how much he wants to go pull Brendon into his arms, or curl up at his feet until Brendon smells right again. Fuck, Spencer's life is seriously so fucked up.

"Spencer, don't--" Brendon says tersely before taking a deep breath and starting again. "Look, things are going to be hard, yeah, a lot harder than I thought they would be, but we have to talk about this. This can't-- we have to make sure this doesn't happen on the road. What if a fan hugs me, or we have to perform close to the full moon? Shit, Spence, just. I don't know what to do," Brendon finishes quietly, and Spencer wants to run. He wants to jump out the fucking window and just sprint, going as far as he can until he runs out of forest. It's not like it hadn't crossed his mind, the idea that this werewolf thing would eventually be too much for Brendon. But it hurts, like a giant hole in his chest, and Spencer's pretty much frozen in place, staring down at the floor and biting back the hurt noise that wants to rip from his throat at the thought of not being with Brendon anymore.

Brendon just stands there, still and silent for a few minutes before he exhales and says, "Spencer. Spencer," as he starts walking forward slowly. Spencer keeps his head down, looking down at Brendon's feet, smelling the anxiety that's pouring off Brendon in waves. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Spencer finally chokes out, looking up at Brendon and feeling that horrible pain in his chest spread. "I'm so sorry. You're right, this is a bad idea, we should-- fuck, Brendon, I can't." Spencer's throat is tight, and he steps back to the window to breathe in the cool air. Brendon's scent is everywhere and Spencer doesn't know if he can do this, if he can even be around Brendon if he's not allowed to be with Brendon.

"Wait, what's a bad idea?" Brendon asks, not waiting for Spencer to answer before he continues. "We just have to figure out a way to make this easier on you around the full moon, okay? It's not going to be easy, but we can do this, we can-- seriously, Spencer. You look like I just killed your puppy."

Spencer laughs, the sound short and rough, but then his brain starts to process the rest of what Brendon said. "We?" he chokes out.

"No, Spencer, I'm going to to make you figure it out all on your own, it's not like we're dating or anything," Brendon mumbles.

"We are?" Spencer says, "We're still, you're not--"

"Oh my god, Spencer," Brendon groans, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up. "Okay, listen, short of you actually killing and eating someone dear to me or, like, cheating on me or something, we're good, okay?" Brendon says, his voice going soft as he finally, finally reaches for Spencer, pulling him close. Spencer clings, sinking against Brendon so heavily that Brendon stumbles back a little. Brendon laughs and strokes at Spencer's back, tilts his head so Spencer can rub his face against Brendon's neck.

"I love you, Spencer," Brendon says after a moment. "I'm not going to stop because shit gets hard, but you've got to trust me on that, okay?"

Spencer pulls back, cupping Brendon's face in his hand and pressing their foreheads together. "Okay," he says, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Brendon's softly, hesitantly. Spencer pulls back, looking at Brendon, questioning, and Brendon just rolls his eyes again, pulling Spencer forward by his hips and holding him there, kissing him slow and deep.

Spencer groans into Brendon's mouth, tilting his head and kissing Brendon back a little desperately. He's fucked things up so much with Shane here, and he knows it, they both know it, but he's just so glad that Brendon isn't dumping him. Spencer feels pathetic but he doesn't even care, letting himself cup Brendon's hips and kiss him harder, dragging his teeth over Brendon's lip. Brendon whines, his hips jerking beneath Spencer's hands, and Spencer breathes in deep, smelling how turned on Brendon is already. Spencer wants to walk them over to the bed, or just back Brendon up into the wall again, but he's still with it enough to know that's probably the last thing they need right now.

"Brendon," Spencer says between kisses, both of them panting a little to catch their breath. The smell of arousal just gets stronger, and Spencer presses his forehead to Brendon's, closing his eyes for a second. "Brendon, we shouldn't. After today, what if-- what if I can't control it?"

"Actually," Brendon says, letting his lips brush against Spencer's as he speaks, "I kind of had an idea about that. I want to try something."

"Try what?" Spencer asks, pushing forward just enough to kiss Brendon quick and fleeting.

"I want to fuck you," Brendon says, giving Spencer a soft kiss of his own. "If you want, I mean. But I think it might help."

Spencer can't actually think of anything he wants more right now. "I-- yes," Spencer says, already feeling hot and overwhelmed just thinking about it. "Yes, yeah, that is an awesome idea," Spencer says, tilting his head so he can reach Brendon's mouth properly. Brendon kisses him deep and dirty, nipping at Spencer's lips and sucking at his tongue, and Spencer groans, pulling Brendon closer and closer until he can feel Brendon's cock, hard in his jeans and pressing against Spencer's hip.

"We should, now, I think," Spencer says, panting against Brendon's mouth. "Now is the best time."

Brendon laughs, stepping back and pulling his shirt over his head, and he swats at Spencer's hands when they immediately go for his skin. Spencer can't help it, though; his fingers are tingling, itching to touch Brendon everywhere. There's so much pale, smooth skin, and all of it is his. Brendon is his, still his, and Spencer wants Brendon to be fucking him pretty much as soon as possible. Spencer fumbles with his own pants, pushing them down along with his underwear and stripping off his shirt in the time it takes Brendon to shove his own pants down.

Brendon looks up and laughs, sudden and bright, smiling widely at Spencer. "Now who's impatient," he says, stepping forward and kissing Spencer again, pulling him close. Spencer groans when Brendon's pressed close, their skin touching from shoulders to knees, Brendon hot and warm and perfect. Brendon smiles against his mouth at the noise and grabs Spencer's ass suddenly, squeezing. "Go get on the bed," Brendon says, his eyes dark, and Spencer practically dives at the bed, settling in against the pillows.

Brendon laughs at him, walking over slowly enough that Spencer's pretty sure it's a deliberate tease before he crawls onto the bed. Spencer spreads his legs, arching his hips up, and Brendon's eyes go comically wide. "Wow," he says. "Wow. You are never allowed to talk about how bad I want it ever again." Brendon runs his hands up and down Spencer's legs.

"That was one time," Spencer says, already kind of breathless. "It was in the heat of the moment." He can't believe how good it feels just to have Brendon touching him. It's like the weird, insistent itch under Spencer's skin focuses under Brendon's fingertips, trailing up and down his legs, his thighs, his hips. He's so busy focusing on Brendon's touch that he's not expecting it when Brendon leans down and sucks Spencer's cock into his mouth.

Spencer wails, his hands clenching in the sheets and his hips stuttering up under Brendon's mouth. Brendon takes it, pulling back a little so Spencer doesn't actually choke him, and Spencer can feel himself shaking, his entire body going taut. "Brendon," he says breathlessly, "Brendon, come on, come on, fuck me," because he feels like he's about to shake apart.

"Spencer," Brendon says, pulling off Spencer's cock with a wet noise that makes Spencer's hips jerk back up. "You don't want me to fuck you dry. Like, ever. We need lube, and unless you've radically changed your views on using actual lube, you need to come. So shut the fuck up and let me suck your dick."

Spencer's brain mostly just registers the part about lube, and he grabs onto his cock, jerking himself rough and fast, gasping when Brendon grabs his wrist, hard, and pulls his hand away. "No," Brendon says, his voice stern. "You are missing the entire point of this. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, hold on to the headboard." Brendon's staring at him, his eyes dark and considering, and Spencer swallows, whining low in his throat before lifting his hands and gripping onto the slats of the headboard.

"Good," Brendon says, stretching forward to kiss Spencer quickly before moving back down. Brendon just stares at him, sits there and watches for a minute, and Spencer doesn't know how much longer he can just lie there, his cock hard and aching and his entire body itching. Brendon stares and stares, and he keeps staring as he brings his hand up and licks over his palm, and he keeps staring as he wraps his hand around Spencer's cock. Brendon jerks him off quick and rough, squeezing around the head, just the way Spencer loves, and Brendon's still staring when Spencer throws his head back and groans low and rough in his throat as he comes.

"Breathe in," Brendon says, and Spencer is breathing in, he can't stop taking great big gasps of air as he shakes from his orgasm. "Spencer," Brendon says, swiping his fingers through the come on Spencer's belly, "calm down. Just breathe." Spencer does, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter and listening to Brendon breathe, trying to match his inhales. It takes him a few seconds, but he does it. He's about to open his eyes, lift his head back up, and that's when Brendon pushes a wet finger into him, firm and fast and all at once, and Spencer's hips jerk forward violently.

"Shh," Brendon says, petting at Spencer's hip with his free hand and then leaving it there, a warm, steady weight that Spencer could easily buck off even without super werewolf strength, but he lets it keep him down. He stills his hips and tries to breathe through the tingling itch that's centering in his stomach as Brendon starts to move his finger in and out in slow, steady drags. Spencer's just starting to get used to the feeling, just starting to relax around Brendon's finger, when Brendon presses in another. It's not a huge difference, and it doesn't even hurt - it just stretches, makes the itch under his skin settle low in Spencer's gut. Brendon twists his fingers a little, pressing in deeper, and a sudden jolt of pleasure makes Spencer's cock jerk where it's resting on his stomach. He clenches down around Brendon's fingers, groaning.

"Brendon, this is-- I didn't know it felt like this," Spencer moans as Brendon's working in a third finger. Brendon freezes before pressing his fingers back in deep, and Spencer looks up to find Brendon staring at him, wide-eyed.

"You've never done this before?" Brendon asks, his voice rough. Spencer tries to push his ass back onto Brendon's fingers, but Brendon pulls back, not letting them sink in too deep yet.

"No, I-- you're--" Spencer's blushing a little, he can tell, and he's vaguely embarrassed, but mostly he just wants Brendon to move already. "C'mon," he says, clenching down around Brendon's fingers and squirming, trying to work himself down.

"Fuck," Brendon says, pushing his fingers back in deep, twisting them a little until Spencer hisses and bucks up again. "Spencer, you--" he says, but he doesn't finish, just leans up awkwardly to get at Spencer's mouth, kissing him deep and frantic while his fingers press deep inside of Spencer's body.

Spencer wants to reach up and grab at Brendon, but he's still holding onto the headboard, so instead he opens his mouth for Brendon, whining into the kiss when Brendon twists his fingers again. He will never tease Brendon for this again, holy shit.

"Shit, shit, Brendon," Spencer pants, straining up underneath Brendon's body after a minute, but Brendon just kisses his jaw and sits back up, settling back down between Spencer's legs. He slides his fingers out with a wet noise and Spencer's seriously about to beg, but then Brendon's pressing them back in fast, deep, and Spencer has to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

"Okay," Spencer gasps out, his hips jerking back with Brendon's fingers. "Okay, seriously, you should fuck me now."

Brendon laughs, but he doesn't slide his fingers out or even stop thrusting them. Spencer shudders, because he's so close, and all this teasing isn't fair. "Yeah, okay, but I want you to come first."

"I-- what?" Spencer grits out, his whole body jerking when Brendon wraps his fist around Spencer's cock, his fingers still pressed deep inside. Spencer thinks if he holds any tighter to the headboard it's going to snap in half. "Brendon, please--"

"Come on, Spence, come for me," Brendon says, and just like that, Spencer stops holding back, letting the heat under his skin spread out all over his body as his hips jerk up and he comes with a groan. "Jesus," Brendon says softly, leaning down and kissing at the head of Spencer's cock, flicking his tongue over it to clean Spencer up. Spencer hisses, sensitive, and Brendon pulls away with a quirked eyebrow. "Yeah, see how that feels?" he asks, grinning.

"What, awesome?" Spencer gasps out, his voice low and broken off. His head is kind of swimming with how intense everything feels, the way his skin feels like it's on fire and he can feel every single callus and ridge on Brendon's fingers where they're still pressed inside. "Now?" he asks, squeezing around Brendon's fingers just in case Brendon doesn't get the hint.

"Yeah," Brendon says gruffly, his eyes dark and heavy on Spencer. "Yeah, now. You need to tell me if it hurts, or you don't like it, or anything, Spence," Brendon says as he places his free hand low on Spencer's belly and pulls his fingers out slowly. Spencer gasps when Brendon's fingers slide out. There's the dragging pull, and then he feels stretched open and empty and it's fucking weird. "Spencer," Brendon says, more sharply this time. "I mean it. Tell me."

"Yes," Spencer says in a rush. "Yeah, I promise, I will, just--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Brendon says, rolling his eyes and smiling fondly down at Spencer. Spencer closes his eyes and tips his head back, arching his hips up, and he feels Brendon swipe his hand through the fresh come on Spencer's stomach. "Look at me," Brendon says, and Spencer does, lifts his head up and cracks his eyes open, watching as Brendon slicks his cock up with Spencer's come and lifts Spencer's legs. He watches as Brendon lines himself up, watches Brendon watch him as he starts to press inside.

Brendon's cock feels like a lot more than his fingers, which makes sense and all, but Spencer wasn't really expecting it to feel like this. Brendon's thick and hard and pressing inside so slowly that Spencer can't do anything but shut his eyes and just feel it, the way Brendon presses him open, the way it makes him feel big and shaky and overwhelmed. The itch under Spencer's skin is spreading all through his stomach as Brendon's hips meet the back of his thighs, spreading out warm and insistent and aching. "You okay?" Brendon asks, breathing heavily through his nose. Spencer can tell he's holding back, can feel Brendon's thighs shaking against his ass, feel his forearms trembling where they're holding Spencer's legs up.

Spencer tries to answer but just gasps, his mouth hanging open stupidly as he pants for air. "Spence?" Brendon asks again, his voice worried, and Spencer shakes his head frantically.

"Yes," he manages. "Yes yes yes, okay, it's okay, just fuck," Spencer says desperately. He wants to close his eyes again, just lie there and feel it, get used to the way it feels to have Brendon inside of him, the way it makes his whole body go taut and his mind go sharp and focused on the heat spreading through his stomach. It's weird, really fucking weird, how much it seems to be helping, making him focus and taking him out of his head. Brendon's hips stutter forward almost imperceptibly, and Spencer clenches down around him, just a little, just enough to see what it feels like.

"Oh fuck," Brendon gasps, leaning his head to the side to rest on Spencer's knee. "Spence, can I--" Brendon shifts his hips forward instead of finishing his sentence, and Spencer nods, clenching down again and again, just feeling Brendon's cock inside of him before Brendon breaks. "Spencer," Brendon says helplessly as he pulls back a bit and then pushes in deep, as far as he can get. "Spencer, fuck."

Spencer groans, because it feels incredible. It's like his skin is on fire now, almost stinging instead of itching. But it feels so good, feels even better once Brendon starts to really fuck him, pressing in deep on every thrust. "Closer," Spencer says, clenching around Brendon's cock like he can actually pull him forward that way. "Closer, come on," he gasps.

Brendon shifts forward, pressing Spencer's legs closer to his chest, and Spencer cries out when the angle changes and Brendon can get even deeper. Spencer grips the slats so hard he hears one start to creak and protest, but he has to hold on to something. He wants to reach up and grab Brendon's hair, pull him down until Spencer can get at his mouth. He wants to run his hands over Brendon's shoulders, wants to grab his own cock because god, he could come like this so easily.

Now that he's thought about it, he kind of can't stop, wondering what it would feel like to come with Brendon inside of him, if it would make the ache in his spine better or worse. His whole body is screwed up tight, everything focused down to the feeling of Brendon's cock as he pushes in and drags out. It's almost too much, but it's also perfect. It's exactly what Spencer needed even if he didn't know it. Brendon fucking him, Brendon making him come, just Brendon. Spencer doesn't have to worry about staying in control or about anything but the ache in his thighs and the way the hot feeling in his stomach is so intense it's starting to make him shake a little.

"Brendon," Spencer groans, tilting his head back. He wants to reach down and jerk himself off, and he even gets as far as letting go of the headboard, but then Brendon's staring down at Spencer, eyes dark and hot, and Spencer shudders. He grabs the slats above his head again and meets Brendon's eyes, his body still strung up tight as Brendon fucks him.

"Were-- were you just going to try to come again?" Brendon asks, his voice rough. He stops thrusting and presses deep into Spencer, just slowly grinding into him. Spencer whines, everything still tense and hot.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Brendon reaches between them and brushes his fingers over the leaking head of Spencer's cock. Spencer hisses, his hips bucking up underneath Brendon.

"Okay! Okay, maybe. Fuck, Brendon, fuck, I need to. Please, please."

Brendon wraps his hand around Spencer's cock and starts to stroke, his grip slick with pre-come. "Right, but I'm going to pretend it's because I'm amazing in bed and not because you're a hair-trigger werewolf who's never been fucked before."

"Brendon, I can't, just-- please," Spencer groans, thighs shaking and his knees still pushed up to his chest. Brendon pulls back to start thrusting again, snapping his hips forward in short, hard movements, and Spencer can feel the heat spread out like liquid through his whole body when he comes, clenching tightly around Brendon's cock. The headboard creaks again, a little louder and a little more threatening, but Spencer keeps holding tight to it as he comes down from his orgasm, his whole lower body throbbing.

"Oh god, I'm going to die," Brendon moans, letting go of Spencer's cock to squeeze at the base of his own. Spencer can still smell how turned on Brendon is, thick and heavy in the air all around them.

"You're not going to die," Spencer grits out, slowly letting go of the headboard. His fingers are a little cramped up, but he flexes them and reaches up for Brendon anyway, running his hands up over Brendon's arms. He cups the back of Brendon's neck and tugs him down, kissing him hard on the mouth. Brendon opens up immediately, kissing back fast and desperate, and Spencer thinks he can almost taste how close Brendon is, how turned on he is. He drags his teeth over Brendon's lip, and then Brendon's moaning and sitting back up, twisting his hips a little where he's still pressed inside Spencer.

"Is this still okay?" Brendon asks, panting, sweat dripping down his temples, and Spencer nods. He stretches his legs out to brace his feet back on the bed, and Brendon stays snuggled between his hips, thrusting slowly. It feels insane, the way Spencer's whole body is buzzing, oversensitive and full and still itchy for more. He wants Brendon to go hard, to see how fast he can come again, but Brendon's face is scrunched up like holding back is almost painful for him.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, hands sliding down to Brendon's hips, and Brendon chokes out a laugh.

"You feel really fucking good, Spence," Brendon groans, dropping his head forward. Brendon's hips are moving in a sloppy, uneven rhythm. He can't seem to decide if he wants to stay in deep and grind or thrust into Spencer hard and fast, and he smells incredible. He's so, so close, his entire body tense and shining with sweat.

"Come on," Spencer says, arching his hips up and clenching down around Brendon. "Brendon, come on, it's okay. I'm good, I promise," Spencer gasps out, reaching out and tugging Brendon down until Brendon collapses onto his chest with a moan that sounds more pained than anything else. "Come on," Spencer repeats desperately, reaching down and grabbing at Brendon's ass, trying to get him deeper.

"Holy fuck," Brendon gasps, his hips slamming forward hard when Spencer spreads his legs and wraps them around Brendon's hips, pressing him even deeper. "Spencer," he groans, his hips snapping forward fast and desperate. "I can't-- I've got to--"

"That's what I'm saying," Spencer groans, straining up until he can get at Brendon's neck. He's tempted to just bury his face there and close his eyes and let the his wolf brain take over, but Brendon is so close his entire body is straining forward toward Spencer, and Spencer's pretty sure it's time to play dirty. He reaches up and kisses at Brendon's ear, sucking on the sensitive skin behind it, licking around the shell of it. Brendon groans, his hips jerking forward helplessly as he grunts, a harsh, ugly sound that only gets more raw when Spencer bites down gently on his ear lobe. Brendon thrusts in deep, his whole body shaking as he comes, and it's-- it's insane, seriously. It feels so much better than Spencer was expecting, hot and wet and so deep inside of him, and Spencer groans just as loud as Brendon, his hands squeezing even harder at Brendon's ass, keeping him close, keeping him there.

"Fuck. Seriously, fuck," Brendon pants into Spencer's shoulder. Spencer rubs slowly over Brendon's lower back, but he makes a whining noise when Brendon starts to pull back, his cock sliding out.

"Hey, wait, c'mon--"

"No. Spence, no, I'll die," Brendon groans, and Spencer knows how sensitive Brendon gets, knows the way he's still clenching down around Brendon just to feel him inside can't be comfortable, but he doesn't want Brendon to pull out. Spencer forces himself to relax, to stop clenching down around Brendon and let Brendon pull out, but he can't help the distressed noise he makes when Brendon's gone. He feels empty, empty and kind of raw, and he pulls Brendon back over his body as soon as Brendon's cock is free.

"Hey," Brendon says, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders and petting at his hair. "Hey, hey, shh," he says, and Spencer wants to but he can't, can't do anything but grab onto Brendon with his arms and his legs and cling. He buries his face in Brendon's neck, breathing in deep and shifting gently against Brendon's stomach at the smell, just enough for his cock to drag against Brendon's stomach. "Oh my god," Brendon says, laughing breathlessly into Spencer's hair. "Spencer, seriously?"

"I can't help it," Spencer whines, trying and failing to still his hips. "Just stay, let's stay like this until you're hard again, come on," he says desperately, kissing at Brendon's ear, rubbing at the small of his back, using every dirty trick he knows.

"Yeah," Brendon says, pulling back, twisting himself out of Spencer's grip. "No."

"No?" Spencer repeats stupidly. "No, no, not no, yes. Yes is the answer," he says, reaching for Brendon helplessly.

"Spencer," Brendon says, his voice fond but stern. "Just hold on," he says, settling between Spencer's knees and brushing his fingers over Spencer's hole, where he's still wet and sensitive. Spencer whines low in his throat and pushes his hips up, pressing against Brendon's fingers.

"Yeah?" Brendon asks.

"Yes," Spencer says vehemently. "Yes, yes, come on."

"Do I even have to remind you that you've already had three orgasms, greedy?" Brendon mutters, but then he places one hand on Spencer's knee and starts to press three fingers inside, where it's still slick with come. Spencer moans and arches his hips instinctively at the pressure inside, full in a different way but still full. It makes the itch under his skin flare back to life, turning into a hot ache low in his gut when Brendon drags his fingers slowly inside of Spencer. Spencer can feel how slick everything is, how easily Brendon's fingers move inside of him, and it's Brendon's come, he's rubbing his fingers through his come inside of Spencer. Spencer can't get enough.

"Just-- harder, please," Spencer begs, and Brendon twists his fingers in roughly, pressing hard in a way that makes Spencer cry out sudden and rough. Brendon leans down and kisses the inside of Spencer's knee, keeping the pressure in that same spot when he works his fingers in and out. Spencer can't quite get over how hot it is, can't wrap his mind around just how good it feels for Brendon to be inside of him, for Brendon to rub his come inside of Spencer. Brendon's his, but it's easy for Spencer to forget that he's Brendon's, too, and he still distantly wishes that Brendon could stay hard, could keep fucking him, but Brendon's fingers still feel amazing. Spencer's still hot and overwhelmed and so fucking close.

"Look at me, Spence," Brendon says, his voice raw and dark. Spencer opens his eyes to see Brendon staring at him, steady and intent, and Spencer's cock twitches, hard on his belly. "Come on, Spencer," Brendon says, hot and urgent. "Can you come now?"

Spencer's flushed and shaking and he feels like he's going to shake apart when he comes seconds later, squeezing desperately around Brendon's fingers. It's only when he lets go of his desperate grip on the sheets that Spencer realizes Brendon didn't even touch his cock, holy shit.

"Holy shit," Brendon says, and Spencer laughs weakly, his cock actually softening a little by the time Brendon pulls his fingers out slowly. He pets over Spencer's hole, his fingers wet and sticky, and Spencer shivers, so sensitive he actually twitches away. "Aha," Brendon says. "It can be tamed."

"Oh god," Spencer groans, rolling his eyes. "You say that every time my cock goes soft, and it's still not funny."

"Says you," Brendon pouts, and Spencer reaches out, flapping his hand around until he finds Brendon's shoulder and pulls him closer. Brendon goes easily, lying half on top of Spencer's chest and tucking his head under Spencer's chin. He goes to rest his hand on Spencer's shoulder and then grimaces a little. "Fuck," he whines, "I don't want to move."

"Not a problem," Spencer says, because he was already considering going for it anyway. He tugs Brendon's hand up and licks over his palm, sucks at his fingers until Brendon's eyes roll back in his head.

"Stop that," Brendon groans after a second, pulling his hand away. "I am way too tired to get it up again."

"Oh, hey," Spencer says, "Really? Because I am totally cool to go again." He's kind of lying; his thighs are burning and he feels open and raw, but in a good way, a way where he wouldn't mind Brendon making it even worse.

"No," Brendon repeats, reaching across Spencer to turn off the lamp and pulling the covers up over them. "It's been a long day, Spencer, and it's time to sleep," he says around a yawn. "Now turn around, and I'll let you be the little spoon."

Spencer grins, leaning down to kiss Brendon softly before he turns around and lets Brendon press up close behind him, wrapping his arm around Spencer's waist and pressing his hand to the middle of Spencer's chest. Spencer not-so-secretly loves being the little spoon sometimes, and it's especially nice now, Brendon solid and warm at his back, his cock soft and a little sticky where it's pressed against Spencer's ass. Brendon falls asleep almost immediately, his hand still pressed warm and reassuring against Spencer's chest. Spencer feels loose and relaxed with Brendon's hand anchoring him, like the itch under his skin that's been bothering him the past few days has finally settled down, just enough for him to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

-

"So I'm a douchebag," Spencer says when they both walk out of the bathroom, Brendon still toweling his hair dry.

Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Is this about the blow job in the shower? Because you seemed fine with it at the time."

"No, it's--" Spencer turns to the pile of mostly-clean clothes next to his bed, waiting until Brendon's pulled on some underwear to turn back around. "I really need to apologize to Shane. Holy shit, I'm a douchebag."

Brendon laughs, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Spencer's waist from behind, pressing his nose to the back of Spencer's shoulder. "Dude, it's fine. He understands. We all understand, and you're doing a lot better now."

Spencer leans back a little into Brendon, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of Brendon, fresh and clean and still damp from the shower. "Okay. But I'm still apologizing."

"Yeah, you probably should. Let me get dressed and we can--"

"Um, I was thinking," Spencer interrupts, turning around to drop a quick kiss to Brendon's lips, "that I should do it alone? You're kind of--"

"Supportive?"

"--distracting," Spencer finishes with a shrug.

Brendon squeezes his arms a little tighter around Spencer and says, "No offense, but if I'm distracting you from killing him, that could be a good thing."

"I'm not going to kill him," Spencer groans, rolling his eyes when Brendon squeezes him tighter and kisses the side of his neck in apology. "I just, I'll be able to think clearer if you're not in the room with me."

"Fine," Brendon says, smacking at Spencer's hip as he pulls back and rummages for his pants. "But if you eat Shane and spoil your dinner, you don't get any dessert."

-

Brendon is lurking just down the hall as Spencer stands outside the door to the game room, acting like Spencer can't smell him, but Spencer's heart is pounding nervously and his stomach is twisted up in knots. He's got bigger things to worry about than Brendon playing boy detective. Spencer pushes the door open slowly, and is relieved that Shane's back is to him. He's sitting on the sofa, hunched over his laptop, and Spencer takes a deep, shaky breath before he says, "So."

Spencer winces. That was a horrible opening.

"Dude," Shane says without even looking up. "Dude, so, I was googling werewolves, and I totally get it! It's the lunar cycle, man, it makes you go all crazy, and plus Brendon is like your mate, right? It totally makes sense that you tried to kill me. I'm just glad you didn't pee on me to assert your dominance or whatever."

"I--" Spencer says, his mouth hanging open stupidly. "What?"

Shane turns around on the couch, facing him, his eyes wide and kind of excited, and what? "There is some seriously fascinating stuff about this if you dig deep enough," Shane says, waving Spencer over to the couch. "Did you know that Scandinavian werewolves were supposed to be old women with poison claws? How kick-ass is that? And they could paralyze kids with their eyes. I'm guessing so they could eat them?" Shane asks.

"No," Spencer says. "No, I did not know that."

"I'm thinking about writing a screenplay," Shane says thoughtfully.

"I-- that's cool," Spencer says. "So, I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Shane says. "Oh, dude, I told you, it's cool. I mean it was really weird at the time, but I get it. It's all good. We're fine, and I know you and Brendon made up. We all heard you and Brendon making up."

"Oh," Spencer says slowly. "Oh god."

Shane snickers, and Spencer manages to slip out of the room in time to pretend like he doesn't hear Shane's question about werewolves having bristles beneath their tongues.

"Thank god that one's not true," Brendon says with a shudder when Spencer leans back heavily against the door.

"Oh god," Spencer says, his face still red. "Oh god, just shut up. I don't want to talk to anyone ever again."

"Well that's unfortunate," Brendon says, tugging on Spencer's wrist. "You still need to apologize to Jon, and Ryan so he doesn't feel left out that he's the only one who doesn't get an apology."

"I hate everyone," Spencer groans, letting Brendon drag him down the hall.

-

Hating everyone does not get any easier later that day when Shane emerges from the game room, shifting his camera restlessly in his hands and saying, "Dude. Dude. Have you ever tried to commune with a dog?"

"I-- what?" Spencer asks, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"It's possible you might have a psychic link with dogs now, you should look into that," Shane says. Brendon laughs obnoxiously, spitting milk onto the table.

Spencer shoots him a dirty look as he wipes milk off his arm, and then he takes a deep breath and does a very, very good job of not getting annoyed as Shane runs through a list of the coolest supposed werewolf powers. He almost feels bad at the way Shane's face falls more and more every time Spencer debunks them.

"Well what can you do?" Shane finally asks. "Aside from the usual stuff, I mean, that's boring."

"Is not," Spencer says, a little offended. "There's an entire family of deer right at the edge of the forest right now. I know that. That's cool."

"Eh," Shane shrugs.

"Fine," Spencer says. "Fine, come on. We're going to the bathroom."

"Um, Spencer," Brendon says. "Spencer, that's maybe not the best thing to show him." Brendon's eyes are wide and panicked and Spencer doesn't get what the big deal is until Brendon glances down nervously at Spencer's pants.

"Oh, not that," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, Brendon."

"Well! I mean, it is pretty cool."

"You're not going to show me your dick, right?" Shane asks, looking back and forth between them nervously.

"No," Spencer says. "No, I am not. I promise. Now come on."

Shane follows him up the stairs hesitantly, hovering in the doorway and fidgeting with his camera strap while Spencer plucks his electric razor off the charger.

"Oh," Shane says, his voice kind of awed as Spencer shaves a stripe up his cheek. "Weird."

He reaches out to poke at Spencer's face, his mouth dropping open hilariously when the smooth skin Spencer just exposed with his razor starts to sprout back up, the stubble poking up and growing back out.

"Dude," Shane says. "Mind fuck."

"No kidding," Spencer says, shaving another stripe up his cheek just because it is kind of fun, watching it grow back. He blinks when Shane's camera flashes, bright and sudden.

"Come on," he says. "Come on, I have amazing exposure on this thing, let's do a progression shot."

Spencer rolls his eyes, but he picks the razor back up, and waits until Shane fiddles with a few settings and then nods. It's kind of the least of what he owes Shane.

-

Later that night, Ryan steals Spencer's last egg roll right off of his plate and says, "Spencer, did you seriously never think to google werewolves?"

Brendon starts snickering and Spencer grabs Ryan's fortune cookie, dropping it in his lap so Ryan can't steal it back. "Why would I? Who thinks to google werewolves?"

"I would," Jon says.

"It's kind of a logical next step," Shane adds.

"Me too, actually," Brendon mumbles, and Spencer groans.

"Whatever," Spencer says, "I was a little preoccupied with being a werewolf, okay?"

"Well, I'm just saying," Ryan says, making a play for his fortune cookie but mostly ending up groping Spencer, "it's like the first thing I did after we figured out what was going on with you."

"Stop grabbing my dick," Spencer says, swatting Ryan's hand away and tossing his fortune cookie onto the top of the bookshelf that's too high for any of them to reach without assistance.

"Oh, you asshole," Ryan says. "And I googled because I care, Spencer," he says, pouting a little. "Because I'm your best friend."

"You did it to make sure you could still wear your silver jewelry without it accidentally killing Spencer," Brendon says. "You told me."

"Because I care," Ryan repeats, looking back and forth between the rocking chair in the corner and the bookcase.

"No," Jon says when Ryan heads toward the rocking chair. "Absolutely not."

"But my fortune cookie," Ryan says. "Now I'll never know."

"He who chases cookie catches broken neck," Jon says sagely.

"I bet if you tried you could jump up high enough to reach it, Spencer," Ryan says. "I read all about it. On the internet."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Spencer says. "If you were that concerned with my tragic lack of information, you should have made me a fucking PowerPoint."

Ryan's eyes actually light up, and Spencer groans. "No," Spencer says firmly. "Ryan, no, that wasn't a request."

"Great job," Jon says. "Really, awesome idea, Spencer."

Ryan is kind of obsessed with PowerPoints. It's been a long standing joke, but it always seems far less funny when they actually have to sit through one. The last time Ryan had made one about alpacas while he was high, and it had included an entire slide of the word "alpaca" over and over again in a variety of fonts.

"Actually," Shane says, "that sounds kind of fun. I was looking at this site today, right, about different werewolf myths? And I was thinking of making a short film about the weirdest ones."

"Oh," Ryan says, his fortune cookie apparently forgotten when Shane opens up his laptop. "Oh, your screen is so big."

-

The very first slide of Ryan's PowerPoint features an animated gif of a werewolf howling at the moon and the title, "IN BETWEEN THE MOON AND YOU: AN INTRODUCTION TO SPENCER'S CHANGING BODY, PRESENTED BY RYAN ROSS."

Spencer walks out right then and there, but according to Brendon, Ryan did some pretty interesting things with paisley overlays.

-

Spencer's been so preoccupied with Shane's visit that when Shane does leave, giving Brendon a quick hug that doesn't even make Spencer want to kill him, it takes a little while to remember just how close it is to the full moon. They have hamburgers for dinner and Spencer eats five and a half before realizing that, holy shit, it's only three days until he changes. Suddenly Spencer isn't as hungry, and Brendon gives him a brief, concerned look when Spencer sets the other half of his hamburger on Brendon's plate.

"Eat," Spencer says, and Brendon rolls his eyes, but he eats it anyway after a quick check to make sure it's not underdone. He softly brushes his ankle against Spencer's under the table.

Spencer takes a deep breath, smelling the outside from where the patio door is standing open and, faintly, the familiar and comforting smell of Brendon right next to him. It calms him down a little, but not enough to stop his brain from anticipating the worst. Spencer's change is still something he only half-understands - he changes and runs away, away from people, running and running until he's tired and his senses are overwhelmed, and then he wakes up naked near wherever he's supposed to be. But what if Spencer tries to stay close to Brendon? What if he hurts Jon and Ryan for being near Brendon, or scares Brendon as a wolf? Spencer doesn't understand it that well, but he does understand that he would never do harm to his mate, as fucked up as it is that his wolf-brain considers Brendon his mate.

"Hey," Brendon says suddenly, licking ketchup off his lip and pulling Spencer from his thoughts. Spencer almost leans forward to help Brendon with his ketchup-lip problem but then Brendon's standing up, heading out toward the patio. "Come on, let's bring in the barbecue stuff."

Spencer's getting better at reading cues, so he gets up from the table to follow Brendon, even when Ryan calls after them, "See, that's how you do subtle!"

Brendon flips Ryan off and shuts the heavy patio door, leaning against the side of the cabin while Spencer opens the grill and pokes at the still-hot coals.

"So, hey, what's up?" Brendon asks after a minute, and Spencer startles and stops focusing on the two deer in the forest behind the cabin, about a hundred yards away.

"I think I should go away when I change," Spencer says, and he clears his throat when his voice comes out quiet. "I think I should be locked up, too. Like a cellar or, I don't know. A vault."

"A vault," Brendon repeats.

"Um. Yes?"

Brendon takes a step forward. "Spence, you know--"

"It's-- we don't know how I'm going to react, Brendon. I don't want to risk this. To risk anyone's life. You saw how things were with Shane. I don't know how much control I have, what I'll do or be able to stop myself from doing..." Spencer trails off, realizing that his voice is raw like he's about to cry, fuck.

"C'mere," Brendon says, reaching out and grabbing Spencer's hands, trying to pull him close. "Spence, where's all this coming from? You've never hurt any of us before. Even back before you had any idea what was going on."

Brendon's hands are warm, his heartbeat steady, and Spencer wants nothing more to lay his head on Brendon's chest right now. "I wasn't with you before, though."

"So that'll... make you want to kill me more?" Brendon asks, brow wrinkled, and Spencer groans.

"Stop-- just stop--"

"Making sense?" Brendon offers, and Spencer finally chokes out a laugh and steps forward, pushing Brendon into the outside wall of the cabin.

"Yeah. Stop making sense, asshole," Spencer says, about to lean down and kiss at the fading bruises on Brendon's collarbone when he realizes that he had a point - a totally valid one - that didn't involve wanting to make out with Brendon until they both fell asleep.

"It's really funny to watch your face when you're thinking hard about something," Brendon says, bringing Spencer out of his thoughts and looping his arms up around Spencer's neck. "Now kiss me to get it out of your system so we can go back inside."

"You're too good to me," Spencer says softly, pressing his mouth to Brendon's, and Brendon squeezes a little at the back of Spencer's neck, kissing him back.


	8. Chapter Eight

Spencer's nervous and restless the next day, his skin tight and itchy, and he can't seem to sit still. He fidgets with the leg of Brendon's jeans, the hem of his t-shirt, the ends of his hair, anything he can reach at any given time. That night Brendon fucks him again, hard and perfect but still not enough to get Spencer out of his head, make him calm down enough to sleep. Then he fucks Brendon deep, staying close and just grinding in until Brendon's hard again. By the time Brendon's finished fucking Spencer a second time, he's pretty much half asleep, slumped over Spencer's chest, exhausted and panting. Spencer curls up behind him and spends the night dozing restlessly, his nose pressed to Brendon's neck and his hand cupping Brendon's soft cock, the moonlight from the open window washing over them.

Spencer doesn't really fall asleep, but at some point the light behind his eyelids goes from blue to orange, and his brain engages enough to realize it's morning, and that Brendon's cock has gone half hard in his hand, warm and heavy. Spencer knows that Brendon's tired, knows that he was kind of demanding last night and Brendon deserves his sleep, but the itch under his skin is almost unbearable now, constant and burning. Spencer squeezes around Brendon's cock without really meaning to, nuzzling at the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon's sweaty where their bodies are pressed together, and Spencer breathes it in, darting his tongue out to lick at the sweat on the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon makes an intrigued noise in his sleep, his hips starting to press forward a little into Spencer's hand, and it's not the first time they've woken each other up for sex, but Spencer still feels vaguely guilty. He's going to take his hand away and kiss Brendon awake, he absolutely is, but then Brendon's turning over sleepily, mumbling as he starts to come to.

Brendon nuzzles into Spencer's neck and throws his leg over Spencer's hips, wiggling around until he's settled in. "Were you just molesting me in my sleep?" he asks, his voice rough and slurred.

"Little bit," Spencer answers honestly. "Couldn't help it."

"S'ok," Brendon says, nosing at Spencer's collarbone. "You smell different," he mumbles, breathing in deep. "Good. Better."

"I think that's my line," Spencer says, but he's a little confused, because he can't smell a difference. He still smells like sweat and sleep and Brendon, which is awesome, but Brendon's pressing closer, rubbing his nose into the hollow of Spencer's throat. His hips start rocking forward softly, like he doesn't realize he's doing it, but it makes his cock drag across Spencer's stomach, makes his scent flare. Before Spencer's even fully processed the idea, he's got Brendon flipped onto his back, nosing down his body until he can get at his cock. Brendon still smells the same, which means he smells fucking amazing, and Spencer spends a few minutes just breathing him in, licking and sucking at the crease of Brendon's thighs and the base of his cock. He keeps going until Brendon's pressing up and whining.

"Spence, c'mon," Brendon says softly, reaching down to touch Spencer's hair, and Spencer nuzzles up into the touch.

"Mine," Spencer says in a low voice, as he licks over the base of Brendon's cock.

"Yeah, yours," Brendon says impatiently, arching up and twisting his hips.

Spencer grips Brendon's hips a little tighter and sinks his mouth down around Brendon's cock, taking him as deep as he can. Brendon gasps, his hips bucking and his cock hitting the back of Spencer's throat. Spencer keeps swallowing, though, tasting pre-come and breathing in the heavy scent of Brendon's arousal and wanting more. It's only when Brendon starts to whine that Spencer pulls off, licking over Brendon's cock, pressing his tongue to the head over and over again until Brendon tugs sharply at Spencer's hair.

"You don't even realize you're teasing, do you?" Brendon rasps out, hips still twisting slowly with Spencer's tongue. "Fuck, Spencer."

"Sorry," Spencer breathes out quietly, but he's not, because Brendon tastes amazing like this, still a little like come from last night. He goes to mouth at the base again, rubbing slow circles into Brendon's hips with his thumbs, feeling the way Brendon's body is strung up tight and almost shaking.

"Please," Brendon says, his voice louder like he's starting to wake up, and Spencer takes Brendon back into his mouth, his tongue flat to the underside of Brendon's cock as he swallows around him. Spencer doesn't want Brendon to come yet, because he could do this for hours, but Brendon's hands are tugging harder at Spencer's hair, his stomach jumping and his breathing shallow. Spencer loves that he can tell when Brendon's close, the way his scent is all Spencer can smell when he breathes in.

"Spence, I'm--" Brendon babbles, and Spencer pulls back a little, just sucking around the head, waiting for Brendon to come. Brendon's breath hitches and then Spencer can taste it, wet on his tongue, and he automatically keeps swallowing around Brendon's cock. Once Brendon's body has relaxed, Spencer pulls off out of habit, not because Brendon yells at him for forgetting he's still a human with a normal dick. He keeps licking at the base of Brendon's cock, though, and when Brendon starts to hum happily, making his interested noise, Spencer stops and blinks.

"Oh, hey," Spencer says, because oh, hey.

"Are you seriously chatting up my--" Brendon stops, lifting his head up to stare down at Spencer, and when he reaches down to grab his still-hard cock, he doesn't hiss from oversensitivity.

"Uh," Brendon says, shaking his dick a little. "What did you do?"

"What did I do?" Spencer repeats. "It's not my dick, dude."

"I know," Brendon says, a little hysterically. "I know it's not, which is why it shouldn't still be hard. Oh my god, I caught it. We had too much sex, and I caught your perma-boner, which I guess isn't so bad as far as STDs go, but--"

"Brendon," Spencer cuts him off. "Maybe it is a wolf thing. I mean, it's the day before the moon, maybe it's a--" Spencer doesn't want to say mate, he really doesn't, but he can't think of how else to phrase it. "Maybe because we're together," he says instead, "it's like a backup plan. Didn't you say I smelled different? Maybe it's like a pheromone thing."

Spencer had, somewhat embarrassingly, done some googling after Shane left, and he remembers something about scent bonding in mates, and increased arousal around the moon for better chances of mating. He doesn't want to say all that, because it's not like he's trying to knock Brendon up, but there wasn't exactly an online support group called, "So, You're A Gay Werewolf! What Now?" Maybe he should have sucked it up and watched Ryan's Power Point after all.

"Let me get this straight," Brendon says, pulling Spencer out of his mental freak out. "Your werewolf super powers are making sure I stay hard enough that we can fuck all day."

Spencer winces and nods slowly, bracing himself for a long, sexless day full of having to smell Brendon jerk off every five minutes and then glare at Spencer, but Brendon just breaks out into a wide smile and says, "Holy shit. Awesome."

-

It is awesome. It turns out sex doesn't get any less fun when you can have orgasms over and over and over again, and Spencer kind of can't believe it when he's the one who has to make them stop for a lunch break when Brendon's stomach keeps growling.

"We can eat later," Brendon says, groaning and snapping his hips forward into Spencer.

"Now is the-- fuck, now is the perfect time," Spencer gasps, and then he plays dirty, clenches down around Brendon's cock until Brendon whines a little and stills his hips.

"Fine," Brendon says, wincing. "Just stop it, oh my god."

"It had to be done," Spencer gasps as Brendon pulls out quickly and not particularly gently. "You've gone sex crazed."

Brendon gives Spencer a pointed look, glancing down at the come that's pretty much everywhere - on Spencer's stomach and his thighs and the sheets. "Fine," Spencer admits, rolling to his side and grabbing his sweats from the floor. "We both went sex crazed. But now it's time to eat delicious, delicious food so we can have a lot more sex."

"Well when you put it that way," Brendon says, catching the shirt Spencer tosses at him with a grimace. "This has come all over it," Brendon says. "I think you wiped off with it last night."

"We really need to do laundry," Spencer says, rooting around through the pile of clothes on the floor. "Hah, here," he says, tossing Brendon a shirt that is stain free.

"We really need to wash more than just our clothes," Brendon mutters, pulling the shirt over his head and stepping closer to Spencer. "But god, Spencer, the way you smell." Brendon nuzzles his face against Spencer's shoulder before he can put on a shirt as well, and Spencer laughs.

"You can never make fun of me again, you know. Never."

"Whatever," Brendon says, pulling on his own sweatpants and making a half-hearted attempt to pat his hair down from where it's sticking up in all directions. "Let's hurry up, though. I think I want you to come on my face after I fuck you again."

"Oh my god," Spencer whines, following Brendon out of their room. He has no idea if he's actually going to live through the rest of the day, not to mention tomorrow, if they're still this horny. Fuck, what is his life.

-

"Ahh, look at that," Jon says in an exaggerated announcer voice, "the hungry, horny North American Werewolf emerges from its cave!" Spencer flips him off, and Jon grins and continues stirring sugar into his coffee while Brendon and Spencer wander into the kitchen. Brendon puts some water on to boil for hot dogs, and Spencer digs the condiments out from the refrigerator, but not before dropping a quick kiss to the back of Brendon's neck. When Spencer sits down at the table, Ryan is peering at him over a glass of orange juice and looking a little green.

"Hey, Spence," Ryan says. "We've been listening to you two fuck for the last five hours, so I was thinking we should have a talk about boundaries."

"Oh god, please, no," Spencer groans, letting his head fall to the table, and Jon laughs before heading into the living room.

"No, really, we could take the mattresses from the studio and line your bedroom walls with them," Ryan suggests. "Or you guys could, you know, not spend an entire day having loud sex."

"It's not Spencer's fault," Brendon says, walking over to plop down in Spencer's lap. "It's the day before the moon. It's a wolf thing." Spencer knows Brendon is trying to help, but Brendon is also clinging to his neck and nosing into the hair above his ear, and Spencer's pretty sure that's not actually doing much to make Ryan feel better.

"Oh, come on," Ryan groans, "could you at least stop it when you're in communal spaces?"

"Hey, Ryan," Brendon says, sliding one of his hands up the sleeve of Spencer's shirt to get at more skin. "Remember that time Keltie came on tour with us and we all had to listen to you for like a week?"

"That was not nearly as bad," Ryan says, bristling.

"Oh," Brendon gasps, pitching his voice low and deep in a decent impersonation of Ryan. "Oh, god, I'm gonna-- unnnngh."

Spencer grimaces at the realism and Ryan shoves his chair back, pushing his glass to the middle of the table. "Fuck you," he says. "Also, you have come in your hair."

Ryan stomps out, and Spencer can just barely hear him telling Jon to get dressed, and something about sexual harassment, over the sound of Brendon's laughter.

-

They end up eating an entire pack of hot dogs before they head back upstairs, and Spencer manages to keep Brendon's hands off of him right up until they're actually inside the door.

"Ooof," he says when Brendon pushes him against the wall and starts kissing at his neck. "You are so much worse than I ever was."

"But just today," Brendon says, pressing himself in against Spencer. "You're like this all the time, so technically you're worse."

"What if this is a permanent thing now?" Spencer asks with a grin. "What if both of us have never-ending perma-boners?"

"Then Ryan is going to be even more pissed because we're never leaving this room again," Brendon says, sliding his hands up Spencer's shirt and tugging it over his head. "We're just going to stay right here and never stop having sex."

Spencer laughs and walks Brendon back to the bed, shoving at his shoulders when he tries to hang on and keep kissing Spencer's neck. Brendon finally lets go just long enough for Spencer to get both of them naked, and then Brendon's crawling into Spencer's lap, pushing him down on the bed and kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Fuck," Brendon gasps out between kisses as he rubs himself against Spencer's thigh. "This doesn't get any less hot. And the way you smell."

Spencer grins, his hands sliding down Brendon's back and pushing down, pressing Brendon closer. "I told you so."

Brendon doesn't answer, just kisses Spencer again and starts rocking down in his lap, gasping against Spencer's lips when their cocks slide together. Brendon grabs at Spencer's hair, pulling his head back so Brendon can get at his neck. Spencer groans, closing his eyes and pressing back against the sharp pull of Brendon's hand as Brendon kisses and sucks at his neck. He should be tired, should be exhausted and sore by now, but mostly Spencer just wants more, wants to fuck Brendon, wants Brendon to fuck him, wants anything. The itch under his skin has settled into this constant, dull ache that gets stronger and stronger the more turned on Spencer gets, and he can't seem to get enough.

"Is this what I smell like all the time?" Brendon asks gruffly as he sniffs under Spencer's ear and down his neck, stopping to suck at the hollow of Spencer's throat.

"Better," Spencer says, arching his hips up and rubbing his cock into the crease of Brendon's thigh when Brendon bites down on the muscle in his neck. There's no way he can smell as good as Brendon does - nothing smells as good as Brendon does - but the way Brendon can't seem to stop sniffing and mouthing at his neck is so familiar that Spencer figures he must at least be close. Spencer slides his hands down from Brendon's hips to his ass, trying to pull him even closer. The tips of his fingers just barely brush between Brendon's ass, but Brendon still gasps and bites down on the skin of Spencer's throat again, rocking his hips forward.

Brendon's teeth send a sharp jolt up Spencer's spine, and he squeezes harder at Brendon's ass, holding him open and reaching out to touch, loving the way it makes Brendon squirm. Spencer touches at Brendon's hole and groans at how wet Brendon is, still stretched and ready from earlier. Spencer can't resist pushing two fingers inside, crying out when Brendon bites down on his throat even harder, his teeth digging in and holding on tight as Spencer starts to move his fingers. Brendon's making high, needy sounds that are muffled by Spencer's neck as he rocks back on Spencer's fingers and pushes his cock forward against Spencer's hip. Spencer's so sensitive, so on edge that he can feel the vibration of them against his skin between Brendon's teeth, and he twists his fingers up, hard and purposeful, until Brendon clenches down around them and bucks forward, coming hot and wet across Spencer's stomach.

"Fuck," Brendon pants out, his voice shaky and his mouth red and wet when he finally releases Spencer's neck from his mouth. Brendon reaches back and grabs onto Spencer's wrist, digging his fingers in as he pulls Spencer's hand away.

"Hey," Spencer says, "I was busy with that," and then, "Oh shit," because Brendon lifts up just enough to sink back down onto Spencer's cock, sudden and fast and without warning. It makes Spencer's head spin - one second his cock is sliding against the soft skin of Brendon's thigh and the next he's as deep as he can get in Brendon's ass, just like that. Spencer blinks dazedly a few times before he can remember how to talk. "I thought," he says brokenly, "I thought you were gonna fuck me."

"Change of plans," Brendon says, his eyes dark and intent as he stares down at Spencer and starts shifting forward slowly. "That okay?"

"Yes," Spencer says, his eyes going a little unfocused as Brendon starts to move. He doesn't pull up, just spreads his knees wider and wider until he's as far down as he can get and starts rocking back and forth, working Spencer's cock inside of him. It feels fucking amazing. He's so deep and Brendon's so wet and warm, clenching down around Spencer's cock like he just wants to feel it.

"Brendon," Spencer says helplessly because all of a sudden he's right there, his stomach drawn up tight and hot, and Brendon just nods, closing his eyes and bracing his hands on Spencer's shoulders as Spencer comes with a groan. Brendon keeps rocking in his lap, squeezing around Spencer, and Spencer's thighs are shaking, the ache under his skin still flaring, still pounding in his gut. Spencer's never felt like this before, never been so close so fast, and it almost hurts, making everything feel bright and sharp. Brendon's still clenching around Spencer's cock as he moves in his lap, and Spencer lets out a noise that sounds almost like a yelp when he comes again, staring up into Brendon's eyes.

"Jesus," Brendon says roughly, finally stilling when Spencer grabs at his hips and squeezes, hard, much harder than he'd normally let himself. "Spencer, how did--" Brendon trails off, his eyes going wide, and Spencer nearly shouts when Brendon shifts his knees so he can lift up and sink back down onto Spencer's cock.

"Brendon, fuck, wait," Spencer says desperately, panting, because his whole body is screaming that it's too much, too soon after his weird, intense double orgasm.

"Just," Brendon says, grabbing Spencer's hand and guiding it back, and Spencer's thoroughly confused until Brendon guides Spencer's fingers to where Brendon's stretched around his cock.

"Oh," Spencer says. "Oh, fuck," because he can feel his come dripping out, sliding out of Brendon and down the length of his cock.

"Please, Spence, let me," Brendon whines as he tries to move again, lifting himself up on Spencer's cock. Spencer still feels kind of raw, like his skin's been scrubbed too hard, but he can feel how wet Brendon is inside, and Spencer groans and lets go of Brendon's hip, letting Brendon move. Brendon doesn't waste any time, lifts himself up and sinks back down in long, slow strokes, and Spencer can feel it, feel the way his come is dripping out down the length of his cock. Spencer lifts his hand back up, rubbing his fingers over Brendon's hole, down his own cock, getting them wet with come.

Spencer can smell it, smell them, thick and heavy in the air, and he doesn't realize he's bringing his fingers up to his mouth until Brendon grabs his wrist and stops him. "Sorry," Spencer says, too turned on to be embarrassed, but then Brendon rolls his eyes and sucks Spencer's fingers into his own mouth, moaning around them. "Fucking fuck," Spencer says, his eyes going so wide it hurts a little.

"Does it always taste like this?" Brendon asks, letting Spencer's fingers out of his mouth reluctantly.

"Yes," Spencer says, still staring at Brendon's mouth.

Brendon makes a considering noise and then lifts off of Spencer's cock suddenly, leaving Spencer's hips jerking stupidly up into thin air. "Hey, wait," he says, confused, but then Brendon's kneeling between his legs, taking Spencer's cock into his mouth, and Spencer is going to die. "Fuck, Brendon," Spencer groans, tangling his hands in Brendon's hair as Brendon sucks at him, his tongue curling around to take in the taste. Brendon pulls off wetly after a moment, leaning down to lick at the base of Spencer's cock and up, long stripes of his tongue.

"Hmm," he says after a moment, pulling back and resting his head against Spencer's hip so he can bury his nose in the hair above Spencer's cock. "This is awesome." Spencer mumbles his agreement and pets at Brendon's hair weakly. He's not even tired - he's still hard and aching and turned on - but Spencer's never in his life come that hard before, and he feels drained, his limbs heavy and his mind going slow. Which is why, he's pretty sure, it takes him a second to work out exactly what Brendon means when he kisses the base of Spencer's cock and sits up, his eyes dark and wild and trained on Spencer, and says, "Okay. Your turn."

He figures it out by the time Brendon's kneeling between his legs and rubbing his cock against Spencer's ass, but it still takes him far longer than he's proud of.

-

A few hours later they finally agree to take a shower (or rather, Spencer drags Brendon into the bathroom), even though Brendon insists there's no point changing the sheets. He's kind of right, although Spencer still feels bad for the general state of the bed. He cracks open a window to sort of even it out, and then, still damp from the shower, Brendon's crawling on top of Spencer on the bed and nuzzling into his neck.

"I'm glad the shower didn't wash your smell away," Brendon says, and Spencer squeezes at Brendon's hip.

"If it did, do you think I would ever let you shower?"

Brendon pokes him in the belly, but whatever, it's true.

"Um," Jon says tentatively from outside their door. "Knock knock."

Brendon makes to spring apart, but Spencer holds Brendon in place, grabbing a sheet to pull over them instead. "Uh, we're under the covers? You can come in."

Jon opens the door slowly, almost comically so, and when he sees that they're both indeed under the covers, his shoulders slump a little in relief.

"The sex noises had stopped for, like, ten minutes, so I figured I was safe. And that this would save Ryan unnecessary trauma." Jon holds up a bag with carry-out boxes in it. "I come bearing chicken."

"You're a good man," Spencer says at the same time Brendon says, "I love you."

"As long as you never express that love without your pants on, we're good," Jon says, setting the bag on the bed. "Careful, there's drinks in there."

"Full service!" Brendon says, grinning.

"I really, really recommend not coming back down stairs," Jon says. "Ryan keeps ranting about propriety and how we don't have enough money for separate buses. Trust me, it's killing my boner."

"Noted," Spencer says, grinning as Brendon sits up and Jon quickly looks away when the sheets slide down.

"Right," Jon says. "I'm going to leave before I have to see someone's dick."

"Thank you for the chicken," Brendon calls after him. "Make sure you tell Ryan it will give us the strength to fuck for several more hours!"

"Fuck you!" Ryan shouts, loud enough that Spencer doesn't even have to strain to hear it.

-

"We have got to stop at some point," Spencer groans into Brendon's neck.

"No we don't," Brendon says sleepily, barely rocking his hips up. "This is great, I feel fine."

"You're yawning," Spencer says, grinding forward until Brendon's hips are trapped against the bed. He's pretty much just lying on top of Brendon, keeping his cock deep and moving in slow, lazy circles.

"So," Brendon says around another yawn. "This is fine, let's just-- come on, stay like this."

"And what, fuck you to sleep?" Spencer groans. It's not that today hasn't been the best thing ever, but Spencer doesn't know if he can actually come anymore, which is a problem he never thought he'd have. As it is, his cock is only half hard, and Brendon's clenching down around him less and less as he gets more and more tired.

"It's not the worst idea I've ever heard," Brendon says, his voice slurred. Spencer can feel him relaxing, his body going loose and boneless bit by bit.

"Oh my god, you're actually falling asleep, aren't you?" Spencer says, nuzzling his nose into Brendon's neck.

"Am not," Brendon says, but Spencer can hear his heartbeat starting to even out and go slow and steady, feel the way his breath is coming out deep and even. Spencer means to pull out, he really does, but Brendon is warm and familiar beneath him, around him, and he's all Spencer can smell, all he can feel. He falls asleep with his mouth skimming the curve of Brendon's shoulder and his hand still curled around Brendon's wrists, Brendon's breath tickling the hair on his arms.

-

Spencer can't help the slight disappointment he feels when he wakes up and his cock isn't still buried in Brendon's ass, but he settles for pulling Brendon closer to his chest, nuzzling into his neck, and that isn't so bad. They slept in late, because the sun is up and he has to pee, and he thinks he can feel Brendon's stomach rumbling under his hand. Even with Brendon close and the not-so-distant memories of their all-day sex-a-thon, Spencer still has a heavy, unsettled feeling in his stomach, a little like dread. He presses soft kisses to Brendon's neck, trying to ignore the itchiness under his skin, like it's already trying to shift and change shape.

"Mmm, 'morning," Brendon mumbles as he starts to stir in Spencer's arms, his toes curling against Spencer's shins when he stretches.

"It's kind of afternoon."

"Same difference," Brendon says right before tilting his head back and yawning. He's still warm and his heartbeat is steady, and Spencer buries his face into the hair at the nape of Brendon's neck, breathing in slowly to try and stave off his panic attack.

"Hey. Hey, Spence, are you okay? Is today--"

"Uh huh," Spencer says into Brendon's skin, pulling Brendon closer to himself.

"Oh. Oh, hey, let's--" Brendon twists around in Spencer's arms and Spencer's a little surprised when Brendon breaks his hold to wrap his arms around Spencer, hugging him close. Spencer doesn't fight it, though, pressing his ear to Brendon's chest and trying not to whimper. He doesn't care if he's being stupid - he's terrified. Brendon rubs slowly over Spencer's back, and Spencer tries to snuggle closer. He knows he logically can't get so close they fuse into one being, but. Spencer might as well try.

"Come on, Spencer, you got this. Stop worrying when it's still hours away."

"Easy for you to say when you're not going to kill all your friends," Spencer mumbles, squeezing at Brendon's hip. Brendon snorts.

"You're not going to kill all your friends, idiot. I can't believe that the werewolf part of you would kill me after having, like, fifteen hours of sex with me yesterday."

"I think you're missing the point," Spencer says, but he's grinning despite himself. "I still think we should stay here as long as we possibly can, though." Spencer says, right as his stomach growls loudly.

Brendon laughs, loud and happy in his ear. "Come on," he says, hoisting them up. "Shower, and then we'll go find food."

Spencer groans, trying to make himself heavy and limp. It works for all of thirty seconds before Brendon glares at him and digs his fingers in under Spencer's ribs, right where he's the most ticklish.

"Asshole," Spencer gasps, squirming. "Stop that, I have to pee."

"Up, then," Brendon says, standing up and pulling at Spencer's hands. Spencer sighs and sits up, wrapping his arms around Brendon's waist and resting his head on Brendon's stomach. "Come on, Spence. It's going to be fine," Brendon says, petting lightly at his hair.

Brendon sounds so sure, and Spencer wishes he could believe him. He kisses at Brendon's stomach for a second before letting Brendon haul him all the way up off the bed.

"When I kill you all," Spencer says as he follows Brendon the bathroom, "I'm going to say I told you so to your corpses."

-

Spencer's nervous and clingy all day, despite how hard he tries to snap himself out of it. He can't help it; he wants to be near Brendon. He's at least thankful Brendon doesn't call him on it, like when Spencer barely lets go of Brendon's hips while they're in the shower, or when he pulls Brendon's chair close to his at breakfast - or more accurately, lunch. Ryan wants to watch a movie, and Spencer's so, so tempted to say no and just pull Brendon back into their bed with him until Spencer has to leave, but Ryan's eyes are wide and hopeful and he's holding out the Jurassic Park box set, and Spencer can't tell him no. He knows how Ryan gets, equal parts protective and guilty, and Spencer doesn't want to make it worse on him. Besides, he does fucking love Jurassic Park.

"You know we don't have time to watch all of those, right?" Spencer reminds Ryan as he pulls Brendon down onto the love seat beside him.

"We'll skip the third one, it sucks anyway," Ryan says with a shrug.

"What?" Brendon says. "What? Ryan, how can you say that?"

"There's no Jeff Goldblum," Ryan says.

"Spinosaurus," Brendon says, outraged. "Like, what else do I need to say?"

"He does kick the T-Rex's ass," Jon adds.

"Besides, the second one doesn't even have Sam Neill," Brendon says. "You're insane."

"Jeff Goldblum," Ryan snaps, "will always trump Sam Neill."

"I don't even know how to talk to you right now," Brendon says sadly.

"Well," Spencer says loudly. "The good news is, at this rate, we'll only have time for the first one anyway."

Ryan rolls his eyes at Brendon and puts the first movie in, stopping to ruffle Spencer's hair on his way back to the sofa. Spencer smiles up at him and leans his head in to press against Ryan's wrist. Ryan's answering smile is more reassuring than guilty, which is pretty much all Spencer can ask for right now. He settles himself in against the pillows and pulls Brendon close, dropping his head to rest on top of Brendon's as Brendon settles in with his head on Spencer's chest. Ryan pushes play, and Spencer buries his nose in Brendon's hair, breathing him in as the Universal Logo spins on the screen.

-

They make it through the first movie and the first half of the third movie, after Ryan was outvoted, before Spencer starts to feel it. He's still got at least thirty minutes before the sun sets, but it's already starting, the pull under his skin, the feeling of his bones almost shaking, getting ready to bend and shift into something else. The feeling hasn't gotten any less weird, or less painful, and Spencer wasn't expecting it to be so soon. He must have gotten caught up in the movie, in Brendon's scent, in the reassuring weight of Ryan's eyes flickering over him every few minutes.

The first time he'd changed he'd been alone and completely fucking terrified, and the second time Ryan had tried to stay with him. He'd tried to sit by Spencer in his backyard and hold his hand, but when Spencer saw the look on his face, the way his eyes got wide and scared and he started to smell sick as the bones in Spencer's hand had started to shift and reform, he'd made Ryan leave. Had shouted for him to go until his voice didn't work anymore and kept trying even after his words turned into growls. Ryan didn't leave until Spencer dropped down to all fours, and Spencer's pretty sure he saw Ryan run. He'd been there in the morning when Spencer came home, but he wouldn't meet Spencer's eyes and he'd booked the cabin the very next day.

He's not going through that again, even though Brendon offered, practically begged Spencer to let him be there. He knows Brendon doesn't get it, but he can't stand the thought of-- couldn't bear for Brendon to smell as sick as Ryan had, not even for a second.

Spencer waits for ten more painfully slow minutes before he realizes that ignoring it isn't helping. Even dinosaurs can't save Spencer from the way his heart speeds up and panic starts to seize his chest. His joints are starting to ache, and he gets up without thinking about it, jostling Brendon from where he was resting his head on Spencer's shoulder.

"Um, I have to go. Like, now. See you guys later." Spencer's voice is strangled and rough, and he rushes over to the patio doors without looking back. He feels like such a dick, but he can't-- he can't risk anything.

"Okay, the brave solider act is great, but hold on a fucking second, Spence," Brendon says. Apparently Spencer was too busy freaking out to notice Brendon get up and follow him to the patio.

"I'm running out of time," Spencer says, shuddering a little from the way his bones keep shifting, his skin stretching. He keeps shifting from foot to foot, eager to just run until he's far away.

"Just give me two minutes." Brendon reaches up and cups the back of Spencer's neck, pulling his face down to kiss him. It's hard and open-mouthed, and Spencer has his eyes shut tightly, keeping his hands curled up into fists at his sides because he's afraid that if he grabs onto Brendon, he won't let go.

"Try not to eat any bunnies or girls in red capes," Brendon says, his voice tight and shaky.

Spencer chokes out a laugh against Brendon's mouth, and he does let himself grab at Brendon's hips then, just for a second, holding him tight. "Right. I can't make any promises."

"Just promise you'll come back," Brendon says quietly, his breath warm on Spencer's face, and Spencer stops fidgeting for a moment, his chest suddenly feeling too tight. "I know you're not going to kill us, but don't be stupid and talk yourself into running away for our good or something dumb like that, because I swear I will hunt you down and then kill you."

"I'll try--"

"Promise, dickhead," Brendon says, his voice fierce.

"I promise. Love you," Spencer adds, pressing one more kiss to Brendon's mouth before letting go of him and stepping back. Brendon blinks up at Spencer, and fuck, of course Spencer will come back. He has to.

"Love you too," Brendon says, his voice thick. Spencer watches Brendon's throat bob as he swallows heavily. "Now go be a wolf and shit," Brendon says, brushing Spencer's hair back from his face.

Spencer darts in for one more kiss, and he keeps his eyes closed until he turns away, trying to keep his steps even and measured as he walks down the stairs. His whole body is starting to seize up, pain shooting through him, but Brendon hasn't left yet. He's still standing on the patio and watching Spencer go, so Spencer bites at the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He wants to run, wants to get to the forest and drop to all fours and scream from the pain until he starts to howl, but he can't. He can't fuck this up, can't fuck Brendon up, so he forces himself to breathe, great, gasping breaths as he forces his feet forward down the trail to the woods, ignoring the pain that spikes up his legs each time he moves.

Spencer almost sobs in relief when he hears the door finally click shut behind him, and he lets out a loud groan as he starts to sprint, racing for the woods even as the bones in his arms start to pop and shift. He's right at the edge of the trees when the sun finally sinks out of sight and his legs start to go, ripping a cry from his throat as he falls to his knees. Spencer forces himself forward on his hands and knees before collapsing back against a tree. He watches as his hands sprout fur, watches as they shift and spread into paws, watches until the pain is too much and he squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back and letting out a pained shout that turns into a howl halfway through.

-

Spencer doesn't actually remember a lot from when he changes. It's mostly overall impressions of things and random snippets that stick out clearly in his mind, like dreams that stay with you for a while. The first time he changed he woke up naked and shivering in the bushes outside the hotel they'd been staying at, with a vivid memory of a Ferris wheel spinning round and round above him while he ate leftover funnel cake from a dumpster. He could still smell the oil they were cooked in days later, and it took almost a week for him to get the carnival music out of his head. The second time he'd changed he remembered more, remembered running until his legs hurt and he couldn't smell the city anymore, remembered the way the sand of the desert felt under his paws and the exact smell of the bobcat he'd run across.

This time Spencer wakes up somewhere warm and soft, and all he's thinking about is Brendon. He can vaguely recall running through the forest, chasing a deer across a stream and stopping to drink, but mostly it's just Brendon, the way he smells and the way he tastes and the way his hand had felt patting sleepily at the top of Spencer's head and scratching at his neck. Which. Oh. Spencer sits up, blinking blearily, and realizes he's curled up around Brendon's feet on the end of the bed. The sunlight is weak where it's filtering in through the blinds. It must still be early, and Brendon is still asleep, curled around a pillow with the covers tossed off to one side of the bed.

Spencer stretches carefully, warily, wincing at the way his shoulders crack and how his skin feels too tight, like it hasn't really settled back in over his bones yet. It's something he's slowly getting to used to, the way it feels after he changes, a bone-deep ache that takes a day or two to go away. Spencer's hungry, starving actually, but he can't bring himself to leave Brendon. Brendon was all he'd really thought about last night, and Spencer starts to remember coming back home, into the house through the screen door Ryan had left open just in case. He remembers the way it scratched across his side when he came in, remembers whining low and pleased in his throat when he'd found the door to his room cracked open. Mostly, though, he remembers how relieved he felt when he nosed at Brendon's hand and Brendon had patted at his head before curling back in on himself and going to sleep, and how he'd curled up at Brendon's feet, his nose pressed against Brendon's ankle as he drifted off to sleep.

"Hey," Brendon says around a yawn, as he cracks his eyes open. He groans a little as he twists and stretches. "You're you again."

"I missed you," Spencer says, his voice hoarse. It always takes a second to get used to talking again. The first time Spencer changed he must have spent most of the night howling, because it took him hours to get his voice back.

"You were here almost all night, Spence," Brendon says, smiling softly at him. "You came back a few hours after sundown."

'I-- oh," Spencer says. It had seemed like longer, seemed like he was away from Brendon for days.

"Can you go back to sleep?" Brendon says, yawning again. "A few more hours, okay, and then I'll make you breakfast."

"Yeah," Spencer says, hesitating a second before turning back to the end of the bed.

"Spencer," Brendon says, sounding amused. "Up here."

"Right," Spencer says, shaking his head. "Right, no, yes."

"C'mere," Brendon says, grinning, and pulls Spencer in against his chest. Spencer hums happily and snuggles into Brendon's chest, rubbing his nose against Brendon's skin. Brendon scratches at the back of his neck, running his fingers through Spencer's hair, and Spencer makes a noise that he intends to be a moan but turns out more like a whine.

"Good boy," Brendon says, laughing softly. "Stay."

"Shut the fuck up," Spencer says, squeezing Brendon around the waist and kissing gently at the center of his chest.

"See?" Brendon says, throwing the covers over them. "All that worrying for nothing. You didn't kill me even a little bit."

Spencer knows Brendon is joking. He knows that, but he still growls low in his throat, shuffling closer to Brendon. His wolf-brain is still pretty firmly engaged, and he squeezes Brendon's hip, tilts his head up until he can press a kiss to Brendon's throat. "No," he says gruffly. "I'd never hurt you, you're mine. I have to keep you safe."

Brendon laughs a little, and Spencer growls, scraping his teeth over Brendon's collarbone. "Mine," he repeats, desperately trying to stop talking. It doesn't quite work though, and when he's done licking over Brendon's collarbone, he says, "You're mine, that's how it works, I picked you."

"Hey," Brendon says, tilting his head back and letting Spencer get at his neck more easily. "Hey, I know. I picked you too, Spence. I'm yours." Spencer's brain translates it as agreement, submission, and he nuzzles into Brendon's neck, licking at his skin.

"Good," Spencer says, sucking hard at the side of Brendon's neck. He feels desperate and overwhelmed, everything in him wanting to be closer to Brendon, like no matter how much he gets it's not enough.

Spencer holds onto him more tightly, wrapping his leg around Brendon's and resting his nose in the hollow of Brendon's throat, his hands running up and down Brendon's sides, his arms, his hips. Brendon shivers under his touch and Spencer leans up, catching the edge of Brendon's mouth in a wet kiss. He shifts until he can get at Brendon properly, kissing him wet and deep and desperate while Brendon pets at his back, his hair, holding Spencer tight against him.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down and for the desperate, urgent feeling under his skin to go away. He pulls away from Brendon's mouth, breathing heavily, and rests his forehead against Brendon's, staring down at him. "I love you," he whispers raggedly, and Brendon pats at the small of his back, pressing forward to kiss Spencer soft and light.

"I love you too," Brendon says softly, turning his head so Spencer can rest his face there. "Now come on," he says after a moment, sliding his fingers through Spencer's hair soothingly. "Let's get some more sleep and then I'll cook you all the bacon in this house."

It doesn't take Brendon any time at all to fall back asleep, and Spencer settles in against him, wrapping himself around Brendon until he's touching as much skin as possible. He's smiling softly to himself as he falls asleep listening to the steady beat of Brendon's heart, the in and out of his breathing.

-

Spencer wakes up to the smell of bacon. It's strong, and Spencer's pretty sure that has nothing to do with his enhanced werewolf senses, because bacon.

Spencer stretches and sits up, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes that Brendon isn't in their bed. Spencer tries to find his scent in the house, but everything is still bacon. Spencer's considering pressing his nose to the carpet and trailing it until he figures out where Brendon's gone, but then his human brain kicks in and reminds him that, oh yeah, Brendon is probably the one cooking breakfast. Spencer's only a little ashamed that he runs downstairs, his heart still pounding until he gets to the kitchen.

"You left," Spencer says automatically, but already the familiar warmness is starting to spread across his chest at the sight of Brendon, standing shirtless in front of the stove and humming what might be Van Halen.

"I promised you breakfast, didn't I?" Brendon says with a grin, his voice muffled by the sound of bacon sizzling in the pan.

Spencer walks over to the stove, fitting himself behind Brendon and kissing his neck, his bare shoulder. "You're amazing. You made me bacon. Fuck, I love you."

Brendon laughs loudly, kicking his foot back and hitting Spencer in the shin. "Go sit down, asshole, your meat is almost done."

Spencer waits a few seconds and then presses a kiss to Brendon's neck before walking over to the fridge and grabbing the milk. "You know," he says, taking a swig straight from the jug, "I'm a little surprised that you didn't follow that up with a 'that's what she said' joke."

"I know, right? Personal growth! Oh, shit, hold on," Brendon says, turning back to the stove, and Spencer's still smiling to himself when he sits down.

"Dude," Jon says as he wanders in. "You could at least use a glass."

"No time," Spencer says, taking another long drink. "There's still juice."

"Coffee," Jon says. "I need coffee. Glad you didn't kill us last night, dude," Jon says, punching Spencer in the shoulder light as he heads to the coffee maker.

"Right there with you," Spencer says, smiling happily as Brendon sets the first plate of bacon in front of him. "Seriously, you're my favorite person," he says vehemently, and he's too busy shoving bacon into his mouth to stop Jon from swiping a piece.

"No," Spencer says once he's swallowed. "Mine."

"I'm going to make pancakes in a second," Brendon says. "I seriously would not recommend trying to touch Spencer's bacon. There's still time for him to kill us all."

"Not you," Spencer says, grinning at Brendon. "You made me bacon."

"You're so easy." Brendon laughs before turning around to flip the rest of the bacon.

"Dude," Ryan says, skidding into the kitchen. "Dude, bacon."

Spencer growls, hunching over his plate and glaring at Ryan.

"Brendon," Ryan says, imploring. "You were always my favorite."

"I'm not even going to justify that with a response," Brendon says. "This is Spencer's bacon. You're not the one who turned into a wolf last night. Get back to me when you do, and then I'll make you bacon."

"Jon," Ryan says. "Jon, you can make me bacon."

"There is no more bacon," Jon says with a shrug. "All your bacon are belong to Spencer."

"We had two pounds," Ryan says incredulously.

"And it's all delicious," Spencer says, grinning gleefully as Brendon shovels the rest of the bacon onto his plate.

"That's like half a pig," Ryan gripes. "You're going to turn into a were-pig."

"Aww," Jon says, stirring sugar into his cup of coffee. "That'd be adorable. Little were-pig Spencer."

"You're supposed to be on my side," Ryan says, reaching around Jon to steal his cup of coffee. "You deserved this."

Spencer crunches his bacon happily, grabbing Brendon around the waist as he walks by to grab the pancake mix. Brendon yelps as Spencer pulls him into his lap, then grins when Spencer holds up a piece of bacon.

"Unfair," Ryan says as Brendon makes a show of taking a bite. "First waffles, now this. Since when does fucking Spencer come with perks?"

"Don't be bitter, Ryan," Spencer says, tipping his head onto Brendon's shoulder as he eats his last piece of bacon. "Or you can't have any pancakes either."

"Oooh," Ryan says, stopping with his stolen cup of coffee halfway to his mouth. "Pancakes?"

-

After breakfast, and what ends up being a second breakfast of pancakes, Spencer convinces Brendon to go back up to their room. Both Brendon and Jon waggle their eyebrows at the same time, but Spencer is way too sore from changing to even think about sex right now. Well, he's still going to think about it, but he can definitely wait until he's able to walk up the stairs without groaning before he pounces Brendon again.

"Were you this sore the last times?" Brendon asks, a hint of concern in his voice as his lips brush over Spencer's, and Spencer sighs.

"I just wasn't as whiny about it. Sorry, I can--"

"Hey, wait, no. This is Spencer Day."

"Was two days ago Brendon Day?" Spencer asks with a smirk, and he yelps when Brendon pinches him. Hard.

"I fucking know I wasn't the only one enjoying all that sex. But seriously, get on your stomach, let me help," Brendon says, crawling away from Spencer, and Spencer reluctantly does as Brendon says. He's not sure how he feels about Brendon feeling like he has to do stuff for him, but then again, back rubs.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you," Brendon says softly, kneeling next to Spencer. Spencer listens as Brendon rubs the lotion onto his hands, making sure it's warm before he glides his hands over Spencer's back - wide, glancing brushes of his hands, spreading the lotion on Spencer's skin before he moves back up to Spencer's neck, his fingers digging into the tight muscles there.

Spencer moans.

"That's a good noise, right?" Brendon asks, his hands stilling.

"That is an excellent noise," Spencer says. "Please don't stop."

Brendon drops a kiss to the top of Spencer's head and works his way down to Spencer's shoulders, fingers digging in just right as he works at the knotted-up muscles.

"Damn," Brendon says, "how did you drum like this?"

"It helped, actually," Spencer says. "I mean, it hurt like fucking hell at first, but by the end of the show it wasn't so bad."

"You should have told someone," Brendon says, his voice worried as he smooths the heels of his hands up and down Spencer's spine. "At least Ryan. I know he would have helped."

"Yeah," Spencer says, swallowing nervously. "I try not to bug Ryan with this stuff. He feels bad enough already, and I think I kind of freak him out now."

"Spencer--" Brendon starts, but Spencer cuts him off.

"No, it's fine, it's not some big thing."

"You do realize I can feel you tensing back up, right?" Brendon asks. "Stop lying to me."

"Just--" Spencer starts, before freezing back up.

"Spence," Brendon says, leaning down to lay his head on Spencer's stretched out arms. "You don't have to tell me, but I'm pretty sure you'll feel better if you do. Plus, the more you talk, the more I rub," Brendon says, punctuating his sentence by pulling back and straddling Spencer's thighs. "This okay?" he asks. "I'll be able to reach better."

"It's fine," Spencer says, shifting a little until Brendon's weight is settled more evenly on his thighs. "It feels good, actually."

"Good," Brendon says, leaning forward until he's spread over Spencer's back, his hands kneading at Spencer's shoulders in a way that's making him go loose and boneless. "Now talk."

Surprisingly, Spencer does. He's pretty sure it's because of how relaxing Brendon's hands are, how he's melting further and further into the mattress, or maybe Brendon's just a secret wizard or something. Either way, Spencer is opening his mouth and just kind of putting it all out there.

"That party," he starts, "where it happened?"

"At that pretentious douchebag's house?" Brendon asks.

"Yeah," Spencer says with a wince as Brendon's hands work at a particularly sore muscle. "Zack wouldn't let Ryan go alone and Ryan begged, and I technically still owed him one from like six years ago when he went to a school dance with me. But that school dance was not thrown by some dude named Alasdair who has a pet aardvark."

"No way his name is actually Alasdair," Brendon snorts, digging his thumbs into the sore spot at the small of Spencer's back.

"I think it's Jeff or something. I know Ryan knew him in school. But the point is, that party was a fucking disaster. They were drinking absinthe and talking about the beauty of suffering, and I wanted to punch everyone in the face."

"A completely logical reaction," Brendon says, dropping a kiss on the nape of Spencer's neck as he leans forward to grab some more lotion. "That's why I ditched and Jon pretended to be asleep."

"No shit," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. Ryan had bitched about it the whole way there. "I ended up waiting outside for Ryan because I think I was starting to get a contact douchebag high. Then I heard this dog, like, yelping and--"

"And of course you had to save it," Brendon says with a sigh.

"You would have done the same fucking thing, so don't even," Spencer says. Brendon once climbed a tree in shorts to rescue his neighbor's kitten, and his legs were scraped up for weeks.

"Whatever," Brendon says, rubbing his hands up and down Spencer's arms.

"Anyway, I thought it was just two dogs fighting at first, so I yelled, but the little dog was getting pretty torn up, so I grabbed a rock and tossed it at the bigger one, and, well. The rest is kind of obvious. And embarrassing," Spencer says.

"As far as origin stories go, it's not as dumb as a radioactive spider," Brendon says. "It's kind of heroic, actually."

"I got bit by a werewolf trying to save a dog," Spencer says, rolling his eyes even though Brendon can't see him.

"But you saved the dog," Brendon says, leaning over Spencer's back and kissing at his ear, his cheek, his jaw. "That'll still get you laid."

"I'm not exactly foreseeing any problems with that in the future," Spencer says, lifting his head up just enough to press his mouth to the corner of Brendon's. "The point is," he mumbles as he slumps back down onto the pillow, "Ryan blames himself for dragging me to the party and not wanting to leave. I've tried to tell him like ten times, but you know Ryan."

"Yeah," Brendon says, settling in on Spencer's back and curling his fingers with Spencer's under the pillow. "I think," he says after a minute, "I think it's not so much that he's freaked out by you, as he is freaked out that he did this to you. In his head, anyway, and fuck knows how Ryan's head works. Trust me, though. You're still Spencer, and he's still Ryan, and you two will always be weird as all fuck. Who else is going to put up with either of you?"

"You're doing a decent job," Spencer says sleepily. His muscles are loose and warm, and Brendon's a solid, reassuring weight on his back. Spencer feels like he could sleep for days, just as long as Brendon was here.

"I'm only in it for the sex," Brendon says, kissing at the bit of smooth skin between Spencer's ear and the place on his jaw where his beard starts.

"I knew it," Spencer says, and falls asleep in the time it takes Brendon to answer.


	9. Chapter Nine

Brendon makes spaghetti for dinner and then convinces Spencer that the perfect thing to do when everyone is too full to move is to have an epic Guitar Hero battle. Spencer means to say no, he really does, but Brendon hasn't stopped bragging about beating him the last time and it's become a matter of honor. Honor and ego. Things don't exactly go better this time, though, and after Brendon still kicks his ass after three rematches, Spencer gives up and carries Brendon up the stairs slung over his shoulder.

"Caveman is kind of a hot look for you," Brendon says, laughing as Spencer tosses him onto the bed. Spencer tugs his pants off and tosses his shirt across the room, groaning in relief when he finally collapses on the bed. He yanks halfheartedly at Brendon's shirt until Brendon rolls his eyes and takes it off himself, shimmying out of his pants in the process. Spencer pulls Brendon in, nosing at the back of his neck as he spoons up behind Brendon and wraps a protective arm around his waist. Brendon snuffles, already half-asleep, and presses back into Spencer with a sleepy, pleased noise.

"Night," Brendon yawns, hugging Spencer's arm closer to his chest and squirming around until he's comfortable.

Spencer tries to will his brain to just be quiet so he can sleep, but he can't stop thinking about last night. He thinks about coming into the room as a wolf and Brendon just petting him and letting him sleep at the end of the bed. He thinks about coming back to Brendon, finding his way to his mate from the middle of a forest, knowing Brendon's scent even as a wolf. It's weird, but Spencer can still feel that overwhelming rush of protection for Brendon, of wanting to stay by him at all times and never, ever let anything hurt him.

Spencer is so, so in over his fucking head.

"If you think any louder you're going to wake up Ryan and Jon," Brendon whispers, turning a little in Spencer's arms, and Spencer kisses Brendon's temple without thinking about it.

"They've been woken up by worse from us in the past few weeks."

Brendon snorts. "Okay, a fair point, but not the one I was getting at. What's wrong?"

Spencer isn't exactly sure how to say, "Oh, you know, you're just my mate for life, no big," so he settles for the next best thing, which is apparently blurting out, "I think I might be the abusive boyfriend Ryan's Cosmo warns about."

Brendon doesn't snort this time, but the look he gives Spencer is a little incredulous. "What now?"

"I'm clingy," Spencer says. "And I'm jealous, and--"

"You did try to keep me from leaving the house in my blazer when we went hiking that time," Brendon says gravely.

"Oh shut up, I'm serious," Spencer groans, letting his head fall back onto the pillows.

"Spencer," Brendon says, digging his chin into Spencer's chest until Spencer looks down at him. "You're being an idiot. There's an entirely different set of circumstances here. You're not trying to keep me from going to the club with my bffs, you're a werewolf."

"A clingy, controlling werewolf," Spencer grumbles.

"A bratty werewolf, at the moment," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "Where did this even come from?"

"When I changed," Spencer says, "I came back here, to you, and that's not-- It means stuff," he finishes, mumbling.

"Well that cleared everything right up," Brendon says.

"It's a mate thing, okay?" Spencer says all in a rush. "It means you're, like, mine. My mate. Which means I don't actually have, like... another mate?"

"You are really bad at this," Brendon says.

"Werewolves mate for life," Spencer groans out. "I know, I mean, I thought, but then I actually did start googling stuff, and it explained a lot, so like, you know. I'm sorry. For not... asking you."

"Spencer," Brendon says, sitting up on the bed with a heavy sigh until he's staring down at Spencer. "You're bad at this because I already know all this, okay? I realize this is more than just dating, and seriously. I'm okay with it. It can get kind of weird sometimes, but I'm not going anywhere and I sure as fuck don't want you to."

"Oh," Spencer says, kind of dumbfounded.

"You're so stupid," Brendon says with a laugh, bending down to kiss Spencer lightly. Spencer tugs at him until Brendon falls over on top of him with a grunt, then leans up to kiss him properly. Brendon relaxes on top of him, tucking his face into Spencer's shoulder once Spencer pulls away from his mouth. "Go to sleep, moron," Brendon says, his lips brushing Spencer's skin lightly as he talks.

Spencer still feels weird and on edge, like things can't just be this easy, but Brendon's snuggled in against his chest, his breath tickling at Spencer's throat, and Spencer's so tired. His bones ache and his head hurts and Brendon's so warm, so Spencer breathes him in deep and closes his eyes.

-

They're not exactly making a lot of progress on the album, despite spending a couple of hours a day in the studio over the next two weeks. Ryan keeps pushing and pushing, wanting the lyrics to be more complex, the melodies more intricate, and it's starting to grate on everyone's nerves. Brendon's been locked in the practice space all day, desperately trying to get Ryan's lyrics to fit to the music he's been writing. After about six hours Spencer gets tired of catching faint whiffs of frustration, so he hauls himself up from the sofa, heading to the practice space. He hates how tense Brendon gets when things aren't working out, the way it makes him stiff and upset, and he doesn't bother knocking, just pushes the door open and walks over to Brendon.

Brendon doesn't say anything when Spencer pulls the headphones off of Brendon's ears, pressing himself against Brendon's back and steadying Brendon with his hands on his hips. Brendon slumps back against Spencer and drops his head forward. Spencer can't resist pressing his nose the nape of Brendon's neck and breathing in, even if Brendon mostly smells frustrated and upset.

"Spence, hey--" Brendon starts, his voice tired and rough from singing, but Spencer cuts him off by leaning down and kissing at the side of Brendon's neck, licking softly over the sweat that's warm on his skin. Brendon goes still, and Spencer smiles into Brendon's hair as Brendon relaxes even more, going almost limp in Spencer's arms with a sigh. "It's not working," Brendon says in a quiet voice, and Spencer rubs one hand over Brendon's hip, under his t-shirt. "Ryan wants to-- It's just not working. I can't sing this."

"Come on," Spencer says as he pushes Brendon over to the piano bench, sitting down and reaching for Brendon's belt. Spencer can smell Brendon start to get turned on as he pulls Brendon's pants down over his thighs, his cock starting to swell as Spencer pulls his briefs down.

Brendon bites his lip, says, "Spence, this is-- the door's not locked, this is stupid, let's--"

Spencer shakes his head, running his hands up underneath Brendon's t-shirt, feeling the way his muscles twitch beneath his warm skin. "Just let me, okay? Forget about everything else," Spencer says, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose against Brendon's stomach. Brendon's still giving Spencer a wary look when he pulls back and strips Brendon's t-shirt off, but he lets Spencer pull him down into his lap, straddling Spencer's thighs so he's kneeling on the piano bench.

Spencer's hands brush over Brendon's skin, warm and soft, and Brendon hooks his arms around Spencer's neck and leans down to kiss him, hard, like he's trying to distract himself. The air in the room gets thicker and heavier with Brendon's scent, and Spencer likes that a lot more than frustration and anger. Spencer leans up to meet Brendon's desperate kisses, holding Brendon's hips tightly as he breaks away to kiss down Brendon's jaw, sucking at the skin until it's red. Brendon tilts his head back, and fuck, that is really unfair. Brendon's neck already has fading bruises on it from a few days ago, and Spencer wants to resist, but he can't, not when Brendon groans as Spencer's lips trail over his throat.

Spencer sucks over one of the tender spots and lets his teeth catch at the skin just for the way Brendon's hips buck forward and he gasps. "You know you're going to have to stop this shit when we're on tour," Brendon says, his voice breathy. "Unless we make up a really elaborate lie about some rare skin disease."

"We're not on tour," Spencer says as he licks at the sweat gathering in the hollow of Brendon's throat. "Besides, there are other places I can give you hickeys," Spencer says, squeezing at Brendon's hips before lifting him to his feet. Spencer drops to his knees and kisses down Brendon's stomach, sucking at his hips and the sensitive skin of his lower belly.

"Point taken," Brendon says, burying his hands in Spencer's hair. Spencer grins up at him before leaning back and sucking at Brendon's thighs, nuzzling into the crease of his leg.

"You smell so good," Spencer says, wrapping his hands around the back of Brendon's thighs and pressing him closer as he buries his nose in the hair above Brendon's cock. Spencer's cock is straining against his boxers, but he doesn't want to move his hands to do anything about it, too caught up in the way he can feel Brendon's thighs tremble when Spencer sucks hard at the skin right above the base of Brendon's cock. He can smell Brendon getting desperate, turned on and eager, and he finally smells right again, not stressed out and worried and sad. Spencer lets out a rumbling, happy noise as he pulls back to take Brendon's cock into his mouth, sucking hard at the head where he can just taste the first traces of pre-come. Brendon gasps when Spencer groans around his cock, and he tightens his hands in Spencer's hair, his fingers flexing.

Spencer sucks Brendon in deep and pulls at his thighs, trying to get Brendon closer, take him deeper. Brendon's cock isn't huge, but it's thick, and Spencer loves the way it feels on his tongue, the way he has to stretch his lips wide around it. He can feel how tense Brendon's muscles are from where he's holding himself still, and Spencer tries to frown automatically before remembering that his mouth is kind of full of Brendon's cock at the moment. He pulls back, staring up at Brendon and forgetting what he wanted to say for a moment at the sight of him, his chest flushed and his lips red and wet. Brendon's hips sway slightly toward Spencer's mouth again, and oh, right.

"You should fuck my face," Spencer says, leaning in to run his nose over Brendon's cock.

"Fuck," Brendon gasps, and Spencer's not sure if it's because of what he said or the way he's nosing over Brendon's cock, but he doesn't particularly care. He just takes Brendon back into his mouth and slides his hands up to grab at Brendon's ass, pulling him closer. Brendon takes the hint, moving his hips forward in shallow, jerky thrusts at first before Spencer grumbles unhappily around Brendon's cock and lets his teeth catch softly just under the head of Brendon's cock. It drives Brendon crazy if he does it just right - something Spencer has learned from weeks of practice. Brendon moans out and thrusts forward, hard, his cock dragging across of the roof of Spencer's mouth. Spencer drops his jaw open and flattens his tongue against the underside of Brendon's cock, letting Brendon thrust in, fast and desperate. Brendon tugs at Spencer's hair, twisting his fingers in, and Spencer drops his head back just a little and groans, low in his throat. Brendon cries out at the feeling and his hips jerk forward, his cock hitting the back of Spencer's throat and making him gag.

Brendon tries to pull back then, but Spencer grabs on tight to his ass and pulls him forward, keeping him there. Spencer's pretty much drooling at this point, spit trailing out of either corner of his mouth, but he doesn't care. He can taste Brendon's cock, smell how close he is, and Spencer pulls back just a little so he can suck around Brendon, hard, rubbing his tongue along the underside of Brendon's cock. Brendon groans and his hips jerk desperately. It barely even shifts his cock in Spencer's mouth, but it must be enough, because Brendon is crying out, his come hitting the back of Spencer's throat. Spencer swallows and keeps sucking, pulling back so he can lick at Brendon's slit until he's sure there's nothing else to taste. Brendon pulls sharply on Spencer's hair when it gets to be too much, and Spencer lets go of Brendon's ass, letting him pull his cock out of Spencer's mouth with a wet noise.

Brendon's panting, still a little shaky, and he lets go of Spencer's hair slowly, running his fingers through it, petting at Spencer's scalp. Spencer's face is a mess, and he can feel where even his neck is wet from his own spit, but he doesn't care. He just closes his eyes and arches back into Brendon's hands, fumbling with his sweatpants until he gets them pushed down enough to free his cock.

"Spence," Brendon says, his voice hoarse like he's the one who just got done sucking cock. "No, let me--" but Spencer shakes his head. He's too close.

He leans forward, burying his nose at the base of Brendon's cock and breathing in deep. Brendon's cock is going soft, his skin a little sticky, and Spencer opens his mouth over it, not sucking or even licking, just mouthing wetly as he jerks himself off fast and rough. Brendon whines, low in his throat, and pats clumsily at Spencer's head, his hands starting to shake a little. Brendon's cock twitches slightly under Spencer's mouth, and that's all he needs, he's gone, curling in on himself and coming over his hand.

Spencer wants to keep jerking off, still hard, still so turned on, wants to use his come to finger Brendon open and bend him over the piano while he fucks him, but he can hear Jon moving around in the kitchen, getting out plates, asking Ryan where they are, and he'd rather no one walk in on them. Again.

Spencer stills his hand with a sigh and rests his head against Brendon's hip, rubbing his nose at Brendon's skin. "As much as I hate to say it," Spencer says, his voice coming out raw and rough, "you should probably put on clothes and go eat while I clean up."

"You are kind of a mess," Brendon says, cupping Spencer's cheek softly before stepping back and grabbing for his clothes.

"Worth it," Spencer says with a grin, watching Brendon with intent eyes as he steps back into his underwear.

"Totally worth it," Brendon says vehemently as he steps into his pants. Spencer wipes his hand off on his own sweatpants with a grimace before standing up, and Brendon darts in suddenly, kissing Spencer deep and hard. Spencer gasps a little, his lips still tingling and sore where they were stretched around Brendon's cock, and Brendon licks at the corner of Spencer's mouth where the ache is worst, pulling away with a quick, gentle kiss to Spencer's bottom lip.

"I'm making that up to you tonight," Brendon promises before slipping out the door, and Spencer spends a few seconds going through a list of filthy, awesome scenarios in his mind before shaking his head and pulling his pants the rest of the way up.

-

It takes another few afternoons of fucking around in the studio, trying to make songs work when they don't want to work, for all of them to start realizing just how bad things are going.

"Put the fucking accordion down and actually start singing some of the fucking lyrics," Ryan snaps suddenly at Brendon, and the room goes painfully quiet.

Tensions have been high for a few weeks now. Ryan's ideas seem to keep coming back to the same themes, over and over, and Brendon just can't sing some of the lyrics and phrases that Ryan comes up with. Jon keeps arguing that they need to stop messing around trying to make an album that sounds like an orchestrated soundtrack, and Spencer - well, Spencer's pretty fucking fed up with all of them. It's bad enough living with three guys and having heightened senses, but when everyone smells frustrated and upset day after day, it starts to take a toll on Spencer's wolf brain.

"No," Spencer says, when Brendon just stares open-mouthed at Ryan for a few seconds. "No, fuck that. This is bullshit, Ryan, and you know that. These songs aren't working."

"Well he's not helping by--"

"Ryan, don't start with--"

"Hey," Jon says, his voice loud and clear, a warning. Spencer doesn't know if it's an age thing or a beard thing, or a combination of both, but when Jon uses that voice they all get quiet, every time. "No one's helping, because Spence is right. These songs aren't working, and the music isn't working, and fighting about it isn't going to make it work."

"Well I don't know what else you want me to fucking do," Ryan says, sounding tired in a way that Spencer recognizes is more than just tired, and more than just not getting his way. He drops his guitar and leaves the room without looking back. Spencer glances over to Jon, but Jon stays where he is with his guitar instead of following Ryan like he usually would.

"Let him be alone. I think being holed up like this is starting to get to him," Jon says, and Brendon echoes his agreement.

Spencer cracks his knuckles and tries not to listen for Ryan's angry breathing, looking back down at the lyrics instead - the nonsense lines about phosphorous skin and operatic skeletons, the melodies scribbled in that Brendon can't nail because they don't follow any set musical pattern. This isn't the album they want to make, and Spencer doesn't know how to make Ryan see that before they run out of time to fix it.

-

Spencer wakes up to Brendon hovering about an inch and a half from his face. "Whazzit?" he says, grumpily.

"Jon and I are going to get lunch from Rosa's. And you are going to talk to Ryan and figure out what the fuck is up."

"Wait," Spencer says, rubbing his eyes. "What? Why me?"

"Why do you think you?" Brendon asks. "You've known him the longest, you two have a creepy mind meld thing going on, and also Jon and I really, really do not want to do it."

Spencer groans and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back to the pillows heavily. "I better get burritos for this. Like. A dozen burritos, Brendon, I'm serious."

"No. I am not getting you a dozen burritos, Spencer," Brendon says. "But," he continues, straddling Spencer and dropping a kiss to his nose, "if you actually figure out what the hell is going on with him, I'll get you ten."

Spencer only has to think about that one for a second. Rosa's burritos are really good. "Ugh," he says, swatting at Brendon's hip when Brendon stands up. "Extra cheese, Brendon."

"Goodbye, Spencer," Brendon says as he heads for the door. "Good luck!"

"Extra cheese, I mean it!" Spencer yells after him.

-

Spencer gets downstairs to find Ryan sprawled out on the couch, flipping through the TV channel menu without stopping long enough to actually look at any of the shows. It's one of Ryan's favorite ways to sulk.

"So they ditched us for Mexican food," Spencer says, leaning against the edge of the couch. Ryan doesn't look up, but Spencer can see the way Ryan tenses up a little.

"Jon owes me, like, ten burritos," Ryan mumbles, and Spencer smiles at that. Okay, so maybe they have a tiny bit of a mind meld thing. Whatever. They're amazing burritos.

Spencer sits down at the end of the couch, lifting Ryan's feet so there's room, and he can smell Ryan's frustration, his worry. It makes Spencer's chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with being a werewolf. Ryan's his best friend, and Spencer hates seeing him like this. Jon and Brendon were right.

"So. You want to tell me what the fuck is up?"

Spencer's known Ryan long enough to know he won't talk that easily, so he isn't surprised when Ryan sits up and cracks his knuckles nervously. "No, actually. I would like to get high."

"That seems like a wonderful solution, yes," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"If you don't approve, Spencer, feel free to fuck off," Ryan snaps.

Spencer bites back his retort and takes a deep breath. He knows what Ryan's doing, knows that Ryan's upset enough to try to piss everyone off to the point that they don't even care about finding out why. It's never worked on Spencer before, and it's sure as fuck not going to work now, so Spencer pointedly slumps down in his seat a little, splaying his legs until he's more comfortable.

"Fine," Ryan says tightly, getting up and grabbing Jon's stash from behind the speakers. Spencer thinks it's pretty cute that Jon fully believes that he's good at hiding things. Spencer watches as Ryan rolls a joint, his jaw clenched and his shoulders tense, and maybe letting Ryan get high isn't the worst idea in the world. Ryan holds the joint out to Spencer without looking at him, and Spencer takes one hit before passing it back, waving Ryan off the next time he tries to pass it over.

"What was the point of taking one hit?" Ryan asks, staring at the muted TV screen instead of Spencer.

"I caved to peer pressure so my friend would think I was cool," Spencer says, relaxing just a fraction when the corner of Ryan's mouth quirks up.

"I still don't think you're cool," Ryan says about five minutes later. Spencer glances over at him, noting the way Ryan's holding the tip of the joint between his fingernails, hissing when he takes his last drag and ends up burning his thumb and ashing all over his pants. "Son of a fuck," Ryan says. "I always do that."

"You're still better than Brendon," Spencer says. Brendon gets nervous when a joint burns down too far to hold in his fingers, much less his fingernails.

"Well, at least that's one thing I've got on him," Ryan mumbles, flicking the roach into the ashtray on the table and missing by about a foot.

"Is that what this is?" Spencer watches the way Ryan's face gets tight, closed off again.

"No. Fuck, I'm just saying, I'm happy Brendon handled your wolf thing so god damn perfectly."

"Yeah, I can definitely tell how happy you are," Spencer says flatly.

"I am fucking happy," Ryan almost shouts before shaking his head a little and continuing, softer. "At least you have someone who doesn't constantly fuck things up."

"Ryan, for fuck's sake, you don't--"

"I'm the reason you got bit," Ryan says shakily. "And I freaked the fuck out, okay, I know I did and it was a dick move, but I'm trying to make it better," he says, suddenly turning on the sofa and staring at Spencer intently. "I'm trying to make it better with this album, and no one gets it."

"Ryan," Spencer says quietly, trying to keep his voice even. Ryan hates yelling. "You can't make it better with an album," he says, grabbing Ryan's wrist to still his hand where it's twisting into the bottom of his pajama pants. "There isn't anything to make better," Spencer continues, rubbing at the ball of Ryan's thumb. It's a trick he learned years ago, and he is not above employing it when Ryan's freaking the fuck out.

"I got you bit," Ryan says again.

"I got myself bit, actually," Spencer says.

"I wouldn't let you leave--"

"Don't flatter yourself," Spencer says. "I could have taken you, not to mention slung you over my shoulder and made both of us leave if I'd wanted to."

"You could not have," Ryan says, his voice whiny, and its so absurd Spencer very nearly laughs in his face, but catches himself at the last second. "Besides, I still acted like an asshole."

"So what's new?" Spencer asks, dropping Ryan's hand and poking at his ankle where it's drawn up on the couch. "It's fucking weird," Spencer says. "I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to sit there and watch it happen, and I shouldn't have expected you to. It was a bad decision on both of our parts, okay?"

"It looked like it hurt," Ryan says quietly, twisting himself around until he can drop his head onto Spencer's thigh. Spencer's stupidly grateful that Ryan's not staring at him anymore. Even after years, Ryan can still be an unnerving little fucker when he's looking right at you.

"It does," Spencer says, running his fingers through Ryan's hair. It's greasy and limp, but Ryan relaxes a little, so Spencer keeps going. "It's not as scary anymore, though. I know what to expect now."

"I'm sorry," Ryan says, so quietly Spencer wouldn't have heard it before he was a wolf.

"What for?" Spencer says.

"Spencer," Ryan starts, tensing up again.

"It's okay," Spencer says quickly, squeezing at Ryan's shoulder until he stops trying to sit up. "It was a fucked up thing that happened, and it's going to take getting used to," Spencer says, a little surprised at himself. "This has helped. The cabin, being away--"

"Brendon," Ryan adds, his voice even.

"Brendon," Spencer agrees, "you. Jon. Fuck, even Shane. I don't think I would be as okay with this if it wasn't for being here, and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, so get the fuck over it," Spencer says, making sure to keep his voice from wavering.

"I still want to finish the album," Ryan says after a few minutes.

"Ryan--" Spencer starts, but then he hears the car moving up the road toward them, and stops short.

"I'll think about it, okay?" Ryan says. "But I want to do this." Spencer's pretty sure that want should really be a need, but then Jon and Brendon pull up into the driveway, gravel shifting and doors slamming, and Ryan's sitting up on the sofa, rubbing at his eyes when he thinks Spencer's not looking, and Spencer doesn't have time to call him on it. Plus, the burritos smell really fucking good, even all the way out in the car.

-

Things are better the next few days, but the tension is still there, and they aren't any closer to figuring out what to do about the album. At least, for the most part, no one's at anyone's throat. Of course it could be because they haven't been so much working on the album as spreading out and trying to stay the fuck away from each other, but still. Jon's been spending a lot of time on the roof, and Ryan's taken to sulking in his room a lot, or sitting in the studio and trying to write after everyone else has gone to bed. Spencer personally thinks his coping mechanism is the best, though, because it involves a frequently naked Brendon and lots and lots of sex.

It's been even more intense ever since Spencer changed and came back to Brendon. Now that he knows Brendon is his, that Brendon's his mate, it's like Spencer can't stop. He's mostly over feeling bad about wanting to stay inside Brendon as much as possible, too. It's a little fucked up, but he can't quite disengage his wolf brain long enough to separate mate from boyfriend, so he's mostly found himself looking at Brendon and thinking mine. Or maybe it's more that he doesn't feel quite as guilty about thinking that, who the fuck knows. Being a werewolf is complicated, but it's not like either of them are complaining about how Spencer's taken to fucking Brendon slow and long, coming inside of him and fucking him through it, squeezing at Brendon's cock if he gets too close. Spencer's kept them at it for hours before, until Brendon's smell is everywhere, overwhelming. For Spencer it's become as much of a turn-on as the way Brendon clenches down tightly around Spencer's cock, trying to keep him inside when Spencer goes to pull back and thrust forward again.

Spencer's even gotten better about doubting himself. He doesn't really let himself think about it much anymore, about losing control when they have sex. He just thinks about Brendon, about being inside of him and how Brendon is his, how he's the only one who'll ever have Brendon like this again. It's pretty much all he's thinking about at the moment, anyway, when he pushes Brendon down into the mattress with his weight and just spreads out on top of him, his cock buried deep inside, his come making the slow grind easy. They've been at it for a while. Spencer's come twice, but Brendon's still hard, and he smells even better like this, raw and on edge. The new position forces Brendon to spread his legs to make room for Spencer to stay deep, and the way that arousal and frustration flares when Brendon's cock is trapped between the mattress and his body makes Spencer groan.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps out, his voice mostly muffled where his face is turned into a pillow. "Fuck, fuck, please." Brendon's arching his hips up underneath Spencer, straining even though he has nowhere to go. Spencer just buries his face in the back of Brendon's neck, nose in his hair, his mouth open and sucking at the damp skin at the nape of Brendon's neck. Brendon tastes amazing, just as good as he smells, and Spencer wishes he could stay like this forever. No album, no tension, just Brendon underneath him, open and desperate and Spencer's.

He thrusts hard into Brendon until he finds an angle that makes Brendon whine, makes him grab at the sheets underneath him and try to arch his hips again. Spencer keeps his cock there, just grinding it in, feeling Brendon clench down hard around it. Brendon's close, way too close for Spencer to even think about making him hold back. It's all Spencer can smell, and he considers pulling out, flipping Brendon over so he can taste, but Brendon feels too good, tight and clenching around Spencer's cock. Spencer sucks at Brendon's neck, whispers, "Yes, come on," in a rough voice before he realizes he's doing it.

Brendon makes this noise as he starts to come, whining desperately and shaking from how intense it is, and Spencer can't stop himself. Spencer doesn't even think about stopping himself because Brendon is squeezing hard over Spencer's cock and Brendon is his, and Spencer bites down on Brendon's skin where his neck meets his shoulder, where Spencer can feel Brendon's pulse. He sets his teeth into the skin and just bites until Brendon cries out, a strangled, surprised noise. It's not unlike the noise he usually makes when he's starting to get sore, and Spencer lets go reluctantly so he can sit up and ease his cock out of Brendon slowly, even though Spencer's still completely hard and so close to another orgasm. He leans back down to kiss at Brendon's shoulder, his mouth instinctively drawn to the place where he bit down, and it isn't until Spencer's licking gently over Brendon's shoulder and nosing at his neck that he realizes what he's done.

Spencer pulls back, shocked, staring down with wide eyes at the mark on Brendon's shoulder, angry and red and deep. Spencer's teeth actually broke through the skin a little, and Spencer feels suddenly, almost violently sick. Brendon tries to move to roll over onto his back, and Spencer pulls back and lets out a sad, ugly noise when he opens his mouth to try to say something. Brendon looks up, confused, and Spencer's vaguely aware of Brendon asking what's wrong, but the only thing in Spencer's mind is, Fuck, fuck, what have I done.

"Brendon, fuck, I-- fuck, I'm so sorry," Spencer says, scrambling off the bed and pulling on the nearest pair of sweatpants. They're Brendon's, too tight and too short on him, and Spencer bit him. Brendon sits up in the bed slowly, looking at Spencer dazedly, and Spencer can smell the confusion coming off him, but Spencer can't-- not now, he can't.

"Okay, no, the fuck?" Brendon asks when Spencer starts to inch toward the door. "Was I-- did I do something wrong? Spencer, stop it, talk to me!" Brendon's frantic, almost yelling by the time Spencer reaches the door, and Spencer freezes, looking up at Brendon.

"Brendon, I bit you," Spencer says again, and it hurts just to say the words out loud, his throat closing up tight and panicked.

"Okay?" Brendon says slowly, his hand rubbing at the mark unconsciously. "Spence, I'm fine, I can handle a little--"

"I'm a fucking werewolf!" Spencer shouts, past caring if Ryan and Jon can hear them at this point, because Brendon's still looking at him, and he's not getting it. "That's how I got turned, Brendon," Spencer says, taking in a shaky breath that burns its way down his throat. "I got bit, and now you-- fuck. I'm sorry."

Spencer's shaking, his hand clenching down so hard on the doorknob that the aluminum starts to bend. There's a few painful seconds where Brendon doesn't say anything, his eyes moving back and forth while he rubs at his shoulder. Spencer's legs are itching with the need to run when Brendon says, "Wait, hold on, stop it with-- hold the fuck on. You can't know you just turned me into a werewolf, so come back here, Spencer." Brendon's voice is thin and upset, and Spencer's fingers twitch on the doorknob.

"No, no, I can't, please," Spencer begs. He can't bring himself to even look at Brendon right now, too sick and angry with himself. He tries, he does, but he can't. He can't even wait around to hear what Brendon says, not when Brendon's too busy trying to calm him down instead of doing the rational thing and freaking the fuck out himself.

Spencer knows it makes him the worst kind of asshole coward, but he runs from the room anyway, actually runs, down the stairs and all the way out onto the patio until all he can smell and taste is the night air. He's panting, his chest aches and his eyes are stinging, and he thinks he might throw up. He actually hurt Brendon, hurt his mate. Not only hurt him, but probably turned him into a werewolf, and fuck, fuck, what was Spencer thinking? He shouldn't have lost control, shouldn't have trusted himself with Brendon like that, no matter how he felt. Brendon's his, and it's his fucking job to keep him safe. Spencer blinks down at his hands when he realizes they're shaking, twitching against the rough railing of the porch so hard that Spencer knows he's getting splinters caught in his palm, but he can't even feel it.

He can't feel anything except for the sick twist of his stomach, can't hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears, and Spencer's knees almost go out from under him. He stumbles back until he hits the wall, and slides down the side of the cabin, resting his head on his knees and taking in big, shaky breaths that don't actually help anything.

-

Spencer doesn't know how long he's been sitting on the patio in the dark, but at some point Ryan comes out and sits down beside him.

"So," he says. "Brendon's pretty worried about you. Worried enough to suck it up and send me out here instead of doing it himself. What happened?"

Spencer opens his mouth to talk, but his throat feels sore and raw and he just can't.

"Hey, c'mon. Whatever this is, and whatever happened... no running away. That's my thing. I can't deal with your freakout if it causes me to freak out too. Use your head." Ryan reaches over and touches his fingers to Spencer's wrist, and Spencer tries to shrug Ryan away. He can't deal with anyone, not now.

The movement must draw Ryan's eyes down to Spencer's hands, though, because he hisses, grabbing both of Spencer's wrists and pulling them up. "Holy shit, Spencer. Did you decide it would help to beat up a piece of wood? Fuck, like your hands don't take enough abuse already," Ryan mumbles, standing up. "Get up. We have to get these out before they cause infections or something, dumbass."

Spencer does choke out a laugh at that, even if the sound is rough and all wrong. He gets up slowly and follows Ryan back into the house and over to the downstairs bathroom, where Ryan starts digging through the medicine cabinet for some tweezers. "As if you would know what does or doesn't cause infections," Spencer comments, his voice still rough.

"At least I don't go around trying to choke pieces of wood or whatever the fuck you were doing," Ryan says, but the corner of his mouth is quirked up. "Sit."

Spencer sits down on the toilet seat lid and Ryan kneels next to him, grabbing Spencer's wrists and coaxing him to rest them palm-up in his own lap. Spencer's starting to feel the ache in his palms from the splinters, and it helps, just a little bit, distracting Spencer from thinking about how bad he's fucked up. He spent so much of his childhood being the one to help Ryan out when he fucked up that it makes Spencer's chest ache in a warm way that Ryan's doing this for him now, even if he does keep dropping the tweezers.

"It might be faster to just let me die from infection," Spencer comments after the fifth time Ryan fumbles and drops them to the floor.

"My fingers are too long for this shit," Ryan says, biting the corner of his lip as he yanks the last splinter out. "There," he says. "All better." Ryan pats at his shoulder awkwardly, and Spencer surprises himself by letting out a loud, somewhat hysterical laugh.

"What?" Ryan says. "I'm comforting. And stuff."

Spencer keeps laughing and keeps laughing and keeps laughing until it starts to feel more like crying, and he chokes on air when he tries to make himself stop.

"Spence," Ryan says, reaching out for his wrist, but Spencer twists away.

"Just--" he says, turning to face the door. "Just not right now. Okay? I can't right now."

"Okay," Ryan says quietly. "Do you think you should maybe go talk to Brendon now? He's seriously worried, Spencer."

"Hah," Spencer says, "yeah. Yeah, I know the feeling."

"Spencer, what happened?" Ryan asks quietly, his voice serious. Spencer considers not saying anything, not giving Ryan one more thing to worry about on top of everything else, but he just can't.

"I bit him," Spencer says.

"Is that like... something he's not into?" Ryan asks awkwardly.

"Dumbass," Spencer says, feeling marginally better just from Ryan being Ryan. "Werewolf?"

"Oh," Ryan says. "Oh, Spence, shit, is he going to...?"

"I don't know," Spencer says, low and broken. "I don't know how this works, or how I let myself fucking do it. I don't know what to do."

"Spencer," Ryan says, wrapping him up awkwardly in a hug. Ryan never quite got the hang of hugging; he always clings too tight and squirms and doesn't know when to let go, and it's so familiar, so comforting. Spencer melts into it, letting Ryan's elbows dig into his sides. "You should probably go talk to him," Ryan says after a minute, pulling back.

"I can't," Spencer says again, desperately. "I can't. Can I just-- I'm going to stay in your room tonight, okay? Tomorrow, I'll be better tomorrow, just not right now."

"If you must," Ryan says, reaching around Spencer to open the door. "I'll make sure the coast is clear, okay?"

Spencer nods gratefully, shuffling up the stairs after Ryan when Ryan motions him up. Ryan, thankfully, doesn't try to get Spencer to say anything else, just tosses him a pair of the sweatpants he'd stolen from Spencer at some point and lets Spencer have the right side of the bed. "Thanks," Spencer says quietly once they're both settled in.

"Yeah," Ryan says, poking at Spencer's ankle with his toes. "No problem. But if you start snoring I'm kicking you out."

"Sure you will," Spencer mumbles, the exhaustion finally setting in and his heavy eyes falling shut.

-

Spencer is not, in fact, any better the next day. He wakes up feeling like something is sitting on top of his chest, and once he determines it's not actually Ryan, he's pretty sure it's just the guilt. He manages to slip out of Ryan's room before he wakes up and tries to call Spencer on his bullshit, and he does a decent job of avoiding - or more accurately, hiding from - Brendon, too. The super hearing thing is finally starting to pay off. Everything's going fine until Spencer makes the grave mistake of falling asleep in their room while Brendon is in the studio. He didn't mean to, he just wanted to brush his teeth, is all, but now he's trapped, blinking groggily at where Brendon is sitting on his bed, staring across at Spencer.

"So," he says. "Stop it."

"Brendon," Spencer groans, burying his face back into the pillow. It smells like Brendon.

"No, we're talking about this," Brendon says. "It was a mistake, but it happened, and what's the worst case scenario? I'm a werewolf. It's okay. It'll be weird, sure, but it's okay. We already-- I mean, we talked about this. I'm not going anywhere, we're in this together, so why can't we just be... in this together?" Brendon trails off with a shrug.

"Because I don't want to be," Spencer says. Brendon flinches away and Spencer groans. "Not-- no, Brendon, not like that." He sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I just mean, I don't want you to be a werewolf. I didn't want to be a werewolf. It's not all fun and games and never-ending boners, okay? I can't-- day-to-day life is hell," Spencer says, springing to his feet so he doesn't have to look at Brendon's concerned face.

"It's not so bad here, but on tour, fuck. Everything's so much louder. The bus engine sounds like a lawnmower and the crowd sounds like a fucking air horn directly to the ear. It hurts, and it's hard to tune out, and that's not even mentioning the smells. You know how bad a sweaty crowd of kids smells normally? Try smelling that times a thousand. The bus is like a garbage dump, Ryan's socks make me want to puke, and I can barely see straight sometimes my head hurts so bad."

Spencer's panting a little by the end of it, pacing back and forth in front of the bedroom window as he watches Brendon tense up, his eyes darting nervously. He has to turn away once Brendon starts to smell scared, scared and nervous and wrong, and Spencer's bracing himself for the worst when Brendon touches his shoulder lightly before pressing himself to Spencer's back. "Spence," he says into the skin between Spencer's shoulder blades. "I'm in this. I already told you. Werewolf or no werewolf, I'm with you and nothing's going to change that."

"Are you even taking this seriously?" Spencer says, his back shaking under Brendon's hand. "Did you listen to anything I said? Brendon, this isn't a joke."

"I know that," Brendon snaps, pushing himself in between Spencer's body and the window, forcing Spencer to look at him. "I've known it from the start, Spencer, fuck. It's not like I just fucked first and asked questions later, okay? I knew this could happen and I thought about it, and I had a nice little internal war with myself and decided that this - getting to finally actually be with you - was worth it. And that was when we first started this, okay, so do you really think I'd change my mind now?"

"It's real now," Spencer says, his voice raw. His head is a little dizzy from Brendon's words, from I've known it from the start. Even after the past two months, Spencer still hasn't let himself fully believe that this is a long-term thing, that Brendon was as serious as Spencer was about being mates. "It happened, it's not just a maybe."

"Did you listen to anything I just said?" Brendon asks, giving him a small, tired grin. "'Cause none of it changed."

Spencer lets out a deep breath and slumps forward, resting his head against Brendon's shoulder. "I don't want you to go through that," Spencer says quietly, his breath fogging the glass over Brendon's shoulder. "I don't want you to go through it because of me."

"I know," Brendon says, leaning up and kissing the nape of Spencer's neck. "But there's nothing we can do now. We won't know until the moon, and I'm not spending the next few days sleeping alone and watching you be miserable because of your principles."

"Whatever," Spencer says. "My principles are awesome."

"They're misguided," Brendon says. "But sweet."

"They're awesome," Spencer grumbles, turning his face to nose at Brendon's neck, kissing softly over the bite mark on his shoulder.

"Sure they are," Brendon says, running his hands through Spencer's hair. "I totally agree." Brendon's warm and solid against him, and he smells so familiar that it makes Spencer ache a little. He clutches at Brendon's back, fisting his hands in the fabric of Brendon's shirt and twisting, trying to get closer and closer. "Hey," Brendon says, rubbing at Spencer's back. "Hey, Spence, shh. It's okay. It's going to be okay," Brendon whispers in his ear, and Spencer really, really wishes he could believe him.

-

Spencer's quiet all through dinner, and mostly mopey while Brendon and Jon play Halo, but luckily no one calls him on it. He can tell Jon's curious, shooting him questioning looks over his plate of spaghetti and later his game controller, but Jon doesn't push. Ryan keeps giving Spencer awkward pats on the shoulder that mostly just amuse Spencer as opposed to actually comforting him, and Brendon sticks close, tangling his feet with Spencer's under the table and wedging himself under Spencer's arm when he takes his turn. He manages to totally block Spencer's view in the process, but Spencer can't complain - not when Brendon is still there, still his, and not freaking out even though he should be.

Brendon starts yawning about halfway through their third round, tossing his controller over to Ryan and tugging at Spencer's arm. "C'mon," he says, standing up and stretching. "Bed."

Spencer swallows heavily and tries his best not to stare at the arch of Brendon's back as he stretches. He feels stupidly nervous about being alone with Brendon, about getting himself into a situation where he might lose control again. It's not like he doesn't want to be with Brendon, because he does, but any time Spencer thinks about it, about what happened last time, his stomach twists sickly.

"Still not subtle," Ryan calls out as Spencer follows Brendon upstairs. Spencer's palm is still a little raw from the splinters, so when Brendon grabs it there's an ache that Spencer holds on to, letting it ground him and remind him that he's not going to lose control this time. He's not going to let it get that far.

"Tired?" Spencer asks when Brendon walks into the room and starts peeling off his clothes. Spencer's voice comes out low, rough, and he almost looks away when Brendon's crawling onto the bed in his briefs, his half-hard cock already straining under the material.

"Not especially. C'mere," Brendon says, and Spencer's stomach twists again as he strips down to his boxers, making his way slowly to the bed.

"So I thought we could--"

"Shh," Brendon says, leaning in until his knees are touching Spencer's, both of them sitting up against the pillows and facing each other. Usually Brendon would already be underneath Spencer or in his lap, and Spencer appreciates that Brendon's not pushing right now. Brendon leans in and presses his lips to Spencer's carefully, though, and Spencer's eyes slide shut, kissing back just as gently. Brendon's turned on, Spencer can smell it, but he keeps his kisses soft, lips sliding against Spencer's without opening his mouth. Spencer lets himself touch Brendon's arm, his hand trailing back to the small of Brendon's back to pull him closer. It's good like this, safe and familiar, and Spencer thinks he's doing okay when Brendon starts to make soft noises, licking at Spencer's lips until Spencer opens his mouth.

Spencer isn't even thinking about it, about the warm skin under his hand or Brendon's lips moving wetly with his or the way Brendon moves close enough that his cock is brushing Spencer's belly, straining out against Brendon's underwear. It's all really, really nice and Spencer's hard too, his lips starting to feel a little swollen now that Brendon's kissing harder, using teeth. It's nice until Brendon whines, shifting forward until he's on top of Spencer, rocking down against his thigh, and then Spencer freezes.

"Wait, wait, we shouldn't-- I can't, Brendon, I can't," Spencer babbles, pulling back, and Brendon shifts back off of Spencer's lap.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, Spence. We're okay. Are you sure you want to stop?" Brendon's biting his swollen lip, probably unconsciously, and Spencer feels a weird mix of arousal and nerves shoot through his stomach.

"I--" Spencer starts, not exactly sure what it is he wants to say. All he wants to do is pull Brendon back into his lap, kiss him deep and rock up against him until they both come. He's just about to reach back out when his eyes flicker to Brendon's shoulder, the angry red of the mark, and Spencer jerks back. "No," he says. "No, we can't, I can't--"

"Okay," Brendon says, holding his hands out and slowly reaching for Spencer, pushing at his shoulders until he falls back to the bed. "It's okay," Brendon says, settling in beside Spencer and resting his head on Spencer's chest.

"It's not," Spencer says, twining his shaking fingers into Brendon's hair.

"Spencer," Brendon says, tipping his head up and kissing Spencer's jaw softly. "Go to sleep. Come on, let's get some rest."

"But--"

"Sleep," Brendon says. Spencer can smell how turned on Brendon still is, smell the edge of frustration underneath, but Spencer is scared of what might happen if Brendon came - if either of them came. Just being able to smell Brendon makes it more difficult for Spencer to ignore how turned on they both are, but Spencer doesn't really have a choice. Not now, not after he's fucked everything up.

Spencer pets at Brendon's hair until Brendon's breathing evens out, his breath warm over Spencer's chest and his heart beating steady against Spencer's side. Spencer closes his eyes and tries to make himself sleep, but he can't seem to turn his brain off, and the lingering smell of Brendon's arousal isn't helping much. Spencer lets his hand come up and brush over the bite mark, his stomach tight with guilt, and doesn't manage to fall asleep until the sun starts to shine through the cracks in the curtains.

-

Spencer doesn't know how long he's been asleep before he's woken up by Brendon, grinding slowly into Spencer's thigh. It's not the steady twisting movement that wakes Spencer up, but rather the hard press of Brendon's cock into Spencer's hip and the growing scent of arousal in the air around them.

Spencer's still sleepy enough that he doesn't think about it when he pulls Brendon closer, Brendon's hips stuttering forward as he makes a whining noise low in his throat. It makes the heat unfurl slowly in Spencer's stomach, makes him aware of how he's still hard, how much he wants Brendon, the low itch under his skin starting to get more and more unbearable this close to the moon. He slides his hand down to the small of Brendon's back, pressing, and Brendon whines again as he moves closer, his hips rolling against Spencer's thigh. Spencer makes a low noise and lets his face drop to Brendon's neck, taking in the scent of sleep and sweat and arousal, and Brendon clings tighter, his hips working faster against Spencer's thigh.

"Spencer," he groans, his fingers digging into Spencer's shoulder, and all of a sudden Spencer snaps out of it, remembers, and pulls back as the cold dread of the past day settles back into his stomach. "Spencer," Brendon says again, frustrated this time, his hips still twitching forward restlessly.

"Brendon, shit," Spencer says, hauling himself out of the bed and starting to pace in front of the window.

"No, hey," Brendon says, dragging his hand over his face. "Sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"It's not that I don't want to," Spencer says, grateful when he sees Brendon's shoulders relax just a little. "Trust me," he repeats, looking down at Brendon's lap, his hard cock pressing against his underwear, the wet spot at the tip of his cock.

"I know," Brendon says with a sigh. "I get it, I do. But this is the same place we were when we first started, Spence. And we're still not going to know if we don't try."

"But if we do try, and I hurt you again--"

"I turn into a double werewolf?" Brendon says with a smirk.

"Not funny."

Brendon gets up from the bed and stops Spencer's pacing with a hand to his shoulder. "I'm not complaining," Brendon says, "and I'm not pushing, even if my dick has other ideas. But I'm not going to be afraid to touch you just because you're afraid to touch me."

"But--" Spencer starts, before Brendon rolls his eyes and smacks his hand over Spencer's mouth. "You're not the only one who's scared here," Brendon says, dropping his hand and letting it drift over Spencer's chest, trailing down and hooking his fingers into the waistband of Spencer's boxers. "You're just the only one being stubborn." Brendon punctuates his statement with a kiss, a fucking dirty kiss, deep and wet and biting as he trails his fingers through the hair over Spencer's cock, which is just unfair. "Now," he says, grinning as Spencer makes an unconscious noise of protest when Brendon pulls away. "Shower time. It's our turn to go shopping for groceries today."

Spencer's nearly inside the door of the bathroom, following Brendon blindly, when Brendon turns around with a wince. "Maybe, um," he says, glancing down at his dick. "Maybe separate showers today?"

"Yeah," Spencer sighs. "Yeah, that is probably a really good idea."

Brendon pecks him on the lips and shuts the door with an apologetic smile, and as hard as he tries, Spencer can't quite bring himself to do the smart thing and leave the room. It doesn't take Brendon long - Spencer smells him a minute or so after the water turns on, even over the soap and shampoo. He can hear Brendon too, rough, quick grunts as he jerks off, and Spencer shoves his hand down his boxers. He can't help himself - not when he can smell Brendon, can hear him, not when he wants so desperately to trust himself to be the one getting Brendon off. Spencer still feels vaguely guilty, even though he's so, so close, but then he hears Brendon gasp and cut off into a groan, smells him come, and Spencer's coming across his own hand, hot and sudden.

He falls back against the pillows, panting and grabbing his shirt off the floor to swipe at his stomach. Spencer doesn't actually feel any relief, and not just because his cock's still hard. The guilt was bad enough, but now he just feels overwhelmed and helpless. He can't stop himself from wanting Brendon, but he can't trust himself with Brendon either. It's just like Brendon said, like they're right back where they started. Spencer doesn't know if he can do it all over again, doesn't know if he's strong enough to do it at all.

Spencer's still frozen on the bed when Brendon gets out of the shower, but Brendon just kisses him on the forehead and heads downstairs with promises of scrambled eggs if Spencer can get down to the kitchen before Ryan. Spencer closes his eyes and turns his face into the pillow, breathing in Brendon's scent, his scent, and he tries to tell himself that he can do this. That he has to do this.


	10. Chapter 10

Brendon is seriously fucking testing Spencer's new found resolve. He's acting like everything is completely normal, which means usually innocuous things like bending over to pull on his shoes, or leaning in to kiss Spencer before they head out the door, might as well be Brendon dropping to his knees and begging Spencer to fuck him.

Okay, so maybe Spencer is a little crazy from guilt and sexual frustration. The point is, Brendon is really not helping with this sudden need to be clingy and actually receive affection from Spencer. They're going shopping mostly for steak and toilet paper, and Spencer can smell how turned on Brendon is already, purposefully brushing up against Spencer any chance he gets. It's like two months ago all over again, back to Spencer pining and trying to ignore Brendon's arousal, even when Brendon doesn't want to be ignored.

"Brendon," Spencer hisses when Brendon slides his way between Spencer and the cart to grab something from a shelf.

"What?" Brendon asks, tossing his box into the cart. Spencer thought it was bad enough when Brendon's ass was pressed to his crotch, but then Brendon turns to face Spencer, his face honestly curious like he has no idea he's currently pressing his half hard cock against Spencer's thigh. "Wrong kind of Pop-Tarts?"

"You know what," Spencer says, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

"Oh, fine," Brendon says, shooting a quick look up and down the aisle before leaning and kissing Spencer. He catches Spencer off guard, which is the absolutely only reason Spencer doesn't pull back until Brendon starts trying to kiss him deeper, dirtier.

"That," Spencer sputters when he pulls back, "is not what I meant."

"I told you that I'm not going to pretend you're not my incredibly hot werewolf boyfriend just because you're being stubborn," Brendon says.

"We're in the supermarket," Spencer says desperately, because Brendon is still pressed close and he smells so good. Spencer is a little terrified he's going to do something stupid, like try to fuck Brendon in the cereal aisle while Sweet Caroline plays on the tinny overhead speakers.

"Remember the last time we were in the supermarket?" Brendon asks, his voice low and dirty.

"Not the point," Spencer snaps, forcing himself to take a few steps back. The last time they had gone shopping together they'd ended up making out in the bathroom stall for so long that a stock boy took their cart and put everything back up. It had not been Spencer's finest moment.

"Oh, come on, Spencer," Brendon says, his eyes shining as he bites at his lower lip in a way that he knows is unfair. "You know how hot I get when you read me dirty bathroom stall limericks.”

"Thanks," Spencer says. "I mean that. You've effectively killed my boner, so now I can shop in peace and we can get the fuck out of here."

"As if anything can kill your boner," Brendon snorts, falling into step beside Spencer and tucking his hand in Spencer's back pocket to squeeze his ass right before they turn down the canned goods aisle.

"I hate you," Spencer hisses, because Brendon has a point.

-

By the time they actually reach the checkout counter, Spencer's cart is full of shit they don't need and his patience is pretty much gone. He's tired and he's horny and he's grumpy and he's itchy, his skin tight and irritated because of the moon. His patience wears even thinner when he looks up from loading their groceries onto the belt and sees the bag boy staring at Brendon with what normal people would describe as awe, but Spencer's brain describes as want.

"Carol," the bag boy whispers. His name tag says "Josh," of course it does. All Joshes are dicks, always. "Carol, that's the lead singer from the band I was talking about."

"Fascinating," Carol says as she starts to ring up their groceries. Spencer loves Carol. Carol does not want to fuck his boyfriend. Brendon's smirking, because that's what Brendon does when they encounter wide-eyed fans in public. He's charming and completely polite and just a little bit standoffish if they get inappropriate. It's his thing, and Spencer knows that, but it's also three days before the full moon and Josh blushes when Brendon signs his smock. Before he knows it, Spencer's growling low in his throat.

"Uh," Carol says, "sorry?"

"Huh?" Spencer asks, snapping out of it.

"I said our check machine was down," she repeats.

"Oh," Spencer says, ignoring Brendon's warning look. "No, hey, that's fine, I'm using a card."

"Do you need help with your bags?" Josh asks excitedly as he's loading them into the cart.

"No," Spencer snaps, and very pointedly does not acknowledge Brendon's elbow to the ribs.

"It's fine, we've got it," Brendon says far more politely. "Did you want to get that picture now?”

Spencer grits his teeth and smiles politely and very courteously does not rip Josh's arm off when he wraps it around Brendon's waist as Carol takes a picture with Josh's phone. He's pretty proud of himself, but Brendon still rolls his eyes and shoves Spencer's shoulder as soon as they get out of the store. "Seriously?" he says. "Spencer, the kid was like sixteen."

"I'm nineteen," Spencer says, incredibly aware that he's being an idiot, but completely unable to help himself.

"Don't use my history of seducing younger men against me," Brendon says, waggling his eyebrows and bumping his hip into Spencer's.

"Oh, shut up," Spencer says as he unlocks the SUV and opens the trunk. "You did not seduce me."

"I totally, totally seduced you," Brendon says, grinning bright and wide as he grabs all five of their bags at once and barely manages to get them into the trunk without dropping them. He does, however, manage to crawl halfway into the back of the trunk and wiggle his ass in the process, and before Spencer even realizes what he's about to do, he's pushing Brendon into the back of the SUV, pinning him down to the carpeted floor and kissing him rough and deep.

"Spencer," Brendon gasps after a second. 'We are in the middle of a parking lot and our feet are sticking out the back."

Spencer rolls his eyes and scoots Brendon up forcefully, muttering something like an apology when he bumps Brendon's head into the back of the folded-down seat. He turns around and yanks the trunk closed, sliding back up Brendon's body and going right back for his mouth.

"Mmf," Brendon tries to say against Spencer's lips, but he gives up when Spencer doesn't stop kissing him. Brendon starts kissing back, too, their mouths pressing and moving together roughly as Brendon grabs at Spencer's shoulders, pulling him down, arching his own body up. It's sudden and aggressive, and Spencer isn't the least bit surprised by how hard he is, how hard they both are. Brendon's hips keep rolling up helplessly as he moans into Spencer's mouth. Spencer starts to kiss and suck at his jaw, his lips trailing wetly up the side of Brendon's neck, tasting, trying to get even more of a response from him.

Spencer sucks at Brendon's ear and Brendon kicks out suddenly, knocking a bag over and sending cans scattering. "Shit," Brendon gasps.

"Mine," Spencer says, the itch under his skin turning into a hot, possessive need that flares up around the moon. He just wants to make sure Brendon knows.

"Spence," Brendon pants roughly. "I promise you that you don't have to worry, much less about bag boys at Albertsons, okay?"

Spencer doesn't answer, because he knows that. He really and truly does, but his stomach is still hot with want and Brendon smells amazing under him, so turned on that it's all Spencer can smell. Brendon's squirming beneath him, grinding up against Spencer's thigh slow and intent, and it would be so, so easy to just hold Brendon down and rub against him until they both came, right there in the parking lot. But he can't.

He did better than last time, he knows he did, but Spencer can't help the cold twist of fear that shoots through him at what could have happened if he didn't. Thinking about brutally murdering a bag boy actually is kind of a bonerkill, and Spencer pulls back from Brendon with a groan. "We can't," he says, his voice rough and raw. "We can't, come on."

"Oh my god," Brendon groans, letting his head fall back against the floor. "You're trying to kill me."

"I'm trying not to kill you," Spencer says defensively.

"Spencer," Brendon says, "do you honestly think that if we come in our pants in a supermarket parking lot it's somehow going to make you murder me?"

"Maybe?" Spencer tries, realizing how dumb it sounds.

"Wow," Brendon says. "Wow."

"The ice cream is melting," Spencer says in a last-ditch effort.

"Fuck the ice cream, Spencer," Brendon says, getting up on his knees and crawling toward Spencer in a way that is seriously unfair.

"That's not okay," Spencer says, and he's not sure if he's making a bad joke or an honest observation, but either way he scrabbles behind himself for the trunk latch and tumbles out of the backseat, only landing on his feet because of his superior werewolf reflexes.

Spencer's kind of scared that Brendon's going to murder him when he gets a look at Brendon's face as he climbs stiffly out of the backseat. Brendon walks toward him and Spencer backs up against the side of the SUV nervously. "Just remember," Brendon says darkly, "two days from now we're both going to have super werewolf stamina, and I am not above jerking off in front of you all day."

Spencer actually gulps as he walks to the driver's side, and he fumbles with the keys for almost a whole minute before finally managing to start the car.

-

"Spencer," Ryan says. "Dude, why is my ice cream completely melted?"

"Because you're a terrible person," Spencer snaps.

"Dude," Jon says. "Dude, harsh."

"Spencer was scared I was going to leave him for the bag boy," Brendon explains as Spencer stomps around the kitchen, shoving cans into the shelves. "So we had to have a talk about it. With our tongues."

"No," Ryan says. "No, please do not continue this."

"How cute was the bag boy?" Jon asks.

"You're the worst straight guy I know," Spencer snaps, grabbing the coffee filters out of Jon's stretching hands and placing them easily on top of the fridge.

"Yeah, well you're... tall," Jon says, grimacing.

"Oh," Spencer says dryly. "Snap."

-

Even though the Album From Hell is still going nowhere, things are less tense that evening. Spencer finds himself actually enjoying hanging out downstairs, and not just because there's food. The food helps, but it's not his main draw. That's a toss-up between the food and making fun of Ryan.

"This isn't Meerkat Manor. You promised me meerkats, man," Ryan complains, sprawled out in his usual place on the couch. "This is just, like, gazelles leaping around the savanna."

"Don't hate on your gangly ancestors," Spencer says, setting his plate on the floor. He just ate four steaks, and as much as he loves Brendon, if he does not hurry the fuck up in the studio, Spencer is going to eat his food too. All he can smell is delicious, delicious steak, and he ignores it when Ryan flips him off, digging for the remote out of the couch cushions underneath him.

"When is Shark Week on, again?"

"August, Ryan. Shark Week isn't on until August. And it's May," Jon adds. Spencer snorts because it is not the first time they've had to remind Ryan what month it is.

"Fuck you all. Just for that we're watching ANTM the rest of the night," Ryan grumbles, turning the TV to VH1 and shoving the remote control back into the couch cushions. "Hah."

"Yeah, that'll really be torture for you guys," Brendon says deadpan when he walks into the living room, squeezing in next to Spencer on the love seat.

Spencer opens his mouth to ask Brendon where he's been hiding, but then he breathes in and his jaw snaps shut, his eyes going wide at Brendon. Brendon's turned on right now. And not just turned on, Brendon's scent is strong. Strong like he just got back from jerking off and stopping right before he was about to come, holy shit.

"Brendon," Spencer hisses, "what have you done?"

Brendon flashes Spencer a bright smile, reaching to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose on purpose so Spencer can smell his hands. He's sweating a little, too, his skin shining with it, and Spencer is going to kill him.

"Why would they dye her hair blonde? It looked just fine before," Jon says sadly to the television, and Spencer takes a brief moment to appreciate how completely absurd his life is before turning his attention back to Brendon.

"Seriously," Spencer hisses. "That's just fucking mean."

"I thought it would be worse if I'd come, is all," Brendon says just loud enough for Spencer to hear. "I was trying to be nice and respect your boundaries."

"You were being a cock tease," Spencer hisses, nearly biting through his lip when Brendon leans over his lap to grab a drink of Spencer's beer, pressing his hard cock into Spencer's thigh in the process.

"Okay," Spencer says much too loudly. "You should go get your food before it goes bad. I'll go with you." He grabs Brendon's elbow and yanks him off the couch, dragging him toward the kitchen purposefully. Spencer's not sure if he wants to fuck Brendon into a wall or cry and beg him to take a shower, but either way, he's pretty sure it's a bad idea to do anything in front of Jon and Ryan.

"Oh look," Ryan calls after them. "Jon, look, they're getting so much better at being subtle!"

"Shut up," Spencer yells over his shoulder, because, well. Ryan might have a point, but Spencer cannot sit in there one more second. When they get into the kitchen, Spencer groans and pushes Brendon against the wall, pressing up close and burying his nose into Brendon's neck, growling low in his throat. "Brendon," he says gruffly, "you can't pull shit like this."

Brendon's smirking at him, his eyes bright under the lenses of his glasses when Spencer pulls back, and it just pisses Spencer off more, makes his stomach flush hot. "You know why this is a bad idea," Spencer says, grabbing onto Brendon's hips and holding them firmly against the wall when Brendon tries to push up against him.

"I know why you think this is a bad idea," Brendon says, straining in Spencer's hands, his cock pressing out against the material of his shorts. "I think this is a great idea and you're resisting for no reason."

"You don't know what it's like--" Spencer starts, frustrated and itchy and so turned on. His fingers flex where they're holding Brendon's hips like he can't help it.

"No, but I know you, Spence. I know you wouldn't hurt me. You bit me, so what-- you also fucked me like ten times in a row, and let me tell you, sitting down wasn't a picnic the next day."

If anything, Spencer just feels worse. "Brendon--"

"No, shut up. You've already bitten me, Spencer. If I'm a werewolf then I'm a werewolf, but pushing me away is just making things worse for both of us." Brendon's voice is steady, intent, but Spencer refuses to fall for Brendon's twisted logic.

"You know I'm right."

"This isn't over," Spencer grumbles, but he's pulling Brendon's hips closer so Brendon's body is pressed along his, tucking his face back into Brendon's neck.

"Okay, asshole. But when you're done being stubborn I'd really, really like to come."

Spencer pulls back and brushes his lips over Brendon's jaw, listening closely to the way the steady beat of Brendon's pulse speeds up. The smell of his arousal is thick around them, and Spencer stops fighting, just for a second, his cheek bumping into Brendon's glasses when he nuzzles at Brendon's face. Everything about Brendon is warm and familiar, and fuck, Spencer can't give this up.

"Tonight. Maybe."

Brendon pulls back, already beaming. "Shit, seriously?"

"Maybe."

Brendon reaches back and grabs at Spencer's ass, yanking him closer until their cocks are pushed together, and Spencer has to bite down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. "Not now, Brendon, for fuck's sake."

"Fine," Brendon says, sounding disappointed. He leans up to kiss Spencer quickly, open-mouthed and dirty, and Spencer doesn't even mind when Brendon's glasses bump into his face. "Oops," Brendon says against Spencer's lips.

"Just-- for fuck's sake," Spencer groans, dropping his head to Brendon's shoulder. "Heat up your food already. And then sit on the couch with Ryan, I mean it."

"Ryan kicks," Brendon says, actually pouting in Spencer's face.

"That's what you get for jerking off," Spencer huffs. He leans down and kisses Brendon one more time, letting his hips press forward one last time and swallowing Brendon's gasp before pulling away and forcing himself to head back to the game room.

"Spencer," Brendon calls out after him. "Spencer, I will give you half this steak if you don't make me sit next to Ryan."

"I can hear that, asshole," Ryan shouts.

-

Spencer takes pity on Brendon the seventh time Ryan "accidentally" kicks him in the ribs. Brendon, of course, takes immediate advantage by tucking himself into Spencer's side and surreptitiously arranging himself so that his cock, still half hard, presses against Spencer's hip. "Hey," he says, leaning up to whisper in Spencer's ear. "Hey, look, the sun just set. It's officially tonight."

"Oh my god," Spencer hisses, "are you serious with this?"

"Are you serious with this?" Ryan asks. "Because you guys are never as quiet as you think you are. And that goes for any and all situations, trust me."

"It can get kind of disturbing," Jon adds. "Like for instance, right now, I'm trying to enjoy models getting makeovers, and all I can think about is if you're going to set a new record for casually leaving the room to go fuck."

"That sounds like a personal issue, pervert," Brendon says, sliding his hand up the back of Spencer's shirt and rubbing at the small of his back, which is not fair.

"The previous record," Ryan says, "is ten minutes."

"Right now you're at six," Jon says, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Holy shit, did they just put a cat on Megg's head?"

"It's just a weave," Ryan says. "Not everything is a cat."

"I know it's a weave, it was a hyperbole, dick smack," Jon mutters. "But anyway, guys, the point is, you should just leave and save everyone the awkwardness. I don't want to think about you two fucking when Melrose wins. I was wrong about Nik, but Melrose has this in the bag."

"So you'd rather listen to us fucking?" Brendon asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Oh my god," Spencer says, mortified, scrambling up and yanking at Brendon's arm. "Okay. Okay we're going to go upstairs and do some... stuff," Spencer trails off embarrassingly. He was almost sure he had something in his head when he opened his mouth, but hey, look at that. He starts backing out of the room, pulling a laughing Brendon with him and resisting the urge to just pick Brendon up and run to get the fuck out of his own personal hell as quickly as possible.

"Right," Ryan says. "You two go do some stuff."

"Just do stuff quietly," Jon calls as they hit the stairs. "TV is important."

"Caridee wins," Brendon calls over his shoulder.

"She does not!" Jon shouts. "There's no way. Right? Ryan? Ryan, hand me my laptop."

-

"I hate you," Spencer says as soon as Brendon yanks their bedroom door shut. "I had a plan. I was being smooth, and then you had to go ahead and--"

"You love me," Brendon interrupts, backing Spencer into the wall with a smug smile on his face. It's a little impressive, how much action the walls of their room have seen. Spencer is maybe already freaking out a little.

"You should tie me up. Just in case."

Brendon presses closer to Spencer, close enough that his cock brushes over Spencer's thigh, still straining out under his shorts. "If you're worried about biting me, maybe we should just gag you."

Spencer stares at Brendon's lips when Brendon's tongue darts out to lick them, heat and nerves already twisting impatiently in his stomach. "Oh shit, do you think we should? Maybe we can--"

"Oh my god, stop talking right now," Brendon groans, but he doesn't sound that frustrated as he starts getting undressed. Spencer stares, arousal definitely beginning to outweigh nerves once Brendon's naked and hard in front of him, lean and soft, and fuck, Spencer just wants to press him into the wall and fuck him.

"Stop thinking about sex when we're, like, two minutes away from having it," Brendon says, amused, helping Spencer undress too. Spencer wants to grab at Brendon's hips and pull him close until their skin is touching everywhere, but Brendon has other ideas, tugging Spencer over to the bed and pushing him down on the mattress. Spencer's instincts kick in, his brain still a few steps behind, and he automatically reaches for Brendon's shoulders, leaning up to kiss him hard on the mouth. Brendon pushes Spencer back down to the bed, though, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. Brendon presses down against Spencer's wrists, hard, and Spencer finally stops trying to get at Brendon's mouth.

"You could buck me off without any effort, couldn't you?" Brendon asks, his eyes a little darker and his body a solid weight over Spencer.

"Yes."

"But you're not."

"Also yes," Spencer replies after a beat.

Brendon smiles, leaning down to kiss Spencer's cheek, his temple, just barely touching his lips to Spencer's heated skin. "See? Just trust yourself, Spencer. I trust you."

"But what if--"

Brendon cuts him off, kissing Spencer deep and wet, biting at Spencer's bottom lip. It's a dirty trick because he knows what that does to Spencer, but Brendon just trails his lips down Spencer's jaw to his neck when Spencer groans and tosses his head back, heat spreading out under his skin, finally settling the constant itch he's been carrying around.

Brendon sucks hard at Spencer's throat, nipping at the tender skin, trailing farther and farther down until he reaches Spencer's shoulder. Brendon stops then, his mouth right over the same spot Spencer bit him, lingering to kiss and suck before he scrapes his teeth over the skin.

"Brendon," Spencer gasps out. "Don't, what are you--"

"Do you know what I thought when you bit me?" Brendon asks, lifting his head up so he can look Spencer in the eye. Spencer's frozen, his heart pounding and his stomach twisted up and nervous as he runs the worst-case scenarios through his head.

"I thought, 'fucking finally,' Spencer," Brendon says darkly. "Every single time we fuck, you sniff and you kiss and you lick and you suck at my neck, but you never, ever let yourself bite, and when you finally did I was glad." Brendon's staring down at him, his eyes dark and intent and his hips moving just enough to keep a slow, dragging friction against their cocks. "You're always so careful," he goes on, squeezing at Spencer's wrists, "but I know you wanted to, so when you did it I was glad and so fucking turned on, too. Do you have any idea how that felt?"

Spencer's brain kind of shuts down, his wolf brain fully engaging, heat spreading fast and sudden all over his body at Brendon's words. He finally lets himself remember, remember how it had felt, giving in to the dark part of him that always told him to take, to mark, to bite down and not let go until Brendon was still and begging beneath him. And the way Brendon had reacted, the noises he had made, the way he'd gone still and pliant. Spencer strains up desperately until Brendon kisses him again, hard and desperate. "Fuck," Spencer gasps, grinding his hips up. He's stupidly close all of a sudden, and when Brendon bites down on his lip again, Spencer bucks his hips up and comes, wet and hot across Brendon's stomach.

"Jesus," Brendon whispers. "Spencer, come on, inside now," and then he's letting go of Spencer's wrists with one hand, swiping his fingers across his stomach, through Spencer's come, and reaching back between his legs.

Spencer groans, the fog in his brain clearing just enough to start to feel guilty again. "Brendon," he says, "Brendon, what if it does mean that--"

"Then it happens and we deal with it," Brendon says, his voice catching as he moves his fingers inside of himself. "There's nothing we can do about it now, and I've waited long enough." Brendon squirms back on his fingers one last time before pulling them free of his body. He grabs Spencer's cock and sinks down all at once, without any warning, and Spencer tosses his head back and growls, his hips snapping up helplessly into Brendon's body.

Brendon's so tight, hot and clenching and not quite wet enough for the slide to be easy, so that Spencer's cock drags in and out of him slowly as Brendon starts to move. Spencer spreads his feet, bracing them on the bed so he can thrust his hips up to meet Brendon, and Brendon brings his hand back up, reaching for Spencer's wrist. Spencer catches him halfway, turning his head and licking across Brendon's palm, sucking at the side of his hand until Brendon gets the message and pushes his fingers into Spencer's mouth, letting Spencer suck them clean.

"Fuck, it is so hot when you do that," Brendon groans, rolling his hips down. Spencer nods, letting go of Brendon's fingers and burying his face in Brendon's neck when Brendon shifts over him, holding on to Spencer's wrists with both hands and leaning in close. Spencer loves that Brendon's bendy and has a freakishly long torso so that Spencer's cock can still press in deep, even with Brendon tilting his head to kiss Spencer deeply, moaning into his mouth when Spencer snaps his hips up. Somewhere in the back of his mind Spencer's still nervous about using teeth, so he licks at Brendon's lips instead, pressing his tongue inside when Brendon opens up. Brendon moans and Spencer swallows the sound, kissing Brendon one more time before turning back to his neck, pressing his nose into Brendon's sweaty skin and just breathing him in. He can smell how close Brendon already is, still keyed up from holding out earlier, so Spencer stops thrusting up, just grinding his hips up slow and deep until Brendon's forced to change his rhythm, slowing his hips.

"Fuck, fuck," Brendon groans, sitting up a little when Spencer kisses at the spot right underneath Brendon's ear. Brendon adjusts his grip on Spencer's wrists, bracing himself as he works his ass slowly over Spencer's cock.

"Missed this," Spencer says, his fingers flexing under Brendon's grip, his cock throbbing inside Brendon. Brendon chokes out a laugh and it makes him go tight around Spencer, just for a few seconds. Spencer throws his head back and groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily.

"It's been two nights, Spence. Two."

"Fuck you," Spencer gasps out, and Brendon laughs again, stilling his hips when he does. Spencer feels the heat twist sharply in his stomach when Brendon squeezes around him like that, and he wants nothing more than to flip them over and fuck into Brendon until he's crying out and coming. But fuck, fuck, Spencer has to stay in control. He has to know he can do this, that he won't fuck up again.

"Hey," Brendon says suddenly, leaning back down to press his lips to Spencer's and pulling Spencer from his thoughts. The kiss is slow and they're both panting into it, trying to catch their breath. Brendon rubs his thumbs at the insides of Spencer's wrists and kisses deeper, more fervently, rocking back slightly so that Spencer can just feel the drag over his cock. It helps, brings Spencer back from freaking out, and he moans appreciatively into Brendon's mouth, rocking his hips up.

"Shit," Brendon gasps into Spencer's mouth, his scent flaring wildly. "Spence, yes, just like that," he groans, resting his forehead against Spencer's and breathing against his mouth as he rocks back into Spencer's thrusts. Brendon smells amazing, and so, so close, his hands clenching tight around Spencer's wrists and sweat dripping from his forehead onto Spencer's skin. "God," Brendon gasps, "Spence, I--" and then he's letting go of Spencer's wrists with one hand, sliding it between their bodies to jerk fast and rough over his cock. Brendon pants, working his hips back even faster, and then he's coming with a raw groan, clenching around Spencer as his come hits Spencer's chest.

Brendon keeps clenching and Spencer can't help it, he can't. The smell of Brendon is everywhere and his come is still wet on Spencer's skin. Brendon keeps squeezing around Spencer's cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm, and Spencer strains up underneath Brendon and comes, gasping, his wrists still crossed above his head. Brendon makes a strangled noise and grabs at Spencer's shoulders, rocking a little as Spencer comes inside him, his cock pressed in deep.

Brendon's hands clutch tightly to Spencer's shoulders while he pants, still twitching around Spencer's cock as he comes down from his orgasm. Spencer uses his newfound freedom to reach down and rub at Brendon where he's stretched around Spencer's cock. "Fuck," Brendon gasps, his entire body shuddering. "I both love and hate it when you do that," he groans. His body twitches forward, away from Spencer's touch, but it only serves to press Spencer's cock deeper inside, and Brendon lets out a broken cry, bracing his hands on Spencer's shoulders and lifting himself off of Spencer's cock. "I can't," he pants out. "Sorry, it's too much."

Spencer so, so does not care because as soon as Brendon pulls off he can smell it, smell his come inside of Brendon, and Spencer's wolf brain goes into overdrive, making it seem like the best idea in the world to pick Brendon up and turn him completely around until his ass is in Spencer's face and Spencer can lick in deep, curling his tongue and tasting himself inside of Brendon.

"What--" Brendon gasps. "What even--" but then he's moaning, his hips jerking back against Spencer's face as Spencer licks over him.

Brendon's wet and open, his thighs twitching and shaking as Spencer grips his ass tightly, keeping him spread so he can lick into Brendon. Brendon starts to whine, just barely pressing back with Spencer's tongue, and Spencer's painfully aware of how hard he still is, how much just doing this turns him on.

"Your dick," Brendon gasps, "is going to put my eye out." Spencer's about to apologize, but then Brendon's sucking him in, swirling his tongue and going as deep as he can. Spencer pulls back to moan against Brendon's skin, trying his very best not to thrust up and choke Brendon. Brendon's head is at the perfect angle, though, and he's taking Spencer in so deep every time that Spencer can't help twitching his hips up just a little. Brendon groans around him, and Spencer grabs even harder at Brendon's ass, spreading him back open and licking inside.

It's overwhelming, so much sensation at once and the smell of Brendon all around him. Just as he's about to come, Brendon lets go of his cock with a groan, pushing his hips back against Spencer's mouth. "Fuck," he says, "Spencer, that feels so good." Brendon drops his head back down and just sort of mouths at Spencer's cock, his lips sliding over the swollen head, and Spencer moans into Brendon's skin. It's such a tease, not enough for Spencer to come, but he can't complain when he licks into Brendon and still tastes himself. Possession flares low in Spencer's stomach and he squeezes Brendon's ass, holding him open so he can press closer. Brendon gasps, his breath hot over Spencer's cock, and Spencer's hips twitch up helplessly, rubbing his cock against Brendon's lips.

"Okay, okay," Brendon mumbles, pushing back against Spencer's face and mouthing lazily at Spencer's cock. "Sorry, just oh my god."

Spencer wants to laugh, but he can't seem to stop licking at Brendon, cleaning him up, straining his neck up to get as close as he can. Spencer groans when Brendon finally makes his way back to the head of Spencer's cock, taking Spencer back into his mouth. Brendon finds a stilted, jerky rhythm, pushing his ass back against Spencer's face before pressing forward to take Spencer's cock deeper, and Spencer's hands flex on Brendon's ass when Brendon starts licking right under the head of his cock. Brendon's cock is just starting to swell back up, his scent getting stronger, and it's too much all at once. Spencer can't take it, overwhelmed by Brendon's smell and his taste and the way his mouth is working at Spencer's cock, warm and wet. He pulls his mouth back, pressing his forehead against the inside of Brendon's thigh as he cries out and comes.

Brendon sucks Spencer through it, still mouthing at Spencer's cock even after he's finished coming. If Brendon wasn't getting hard and still pressing back against Spencer's face, he would absolutely flip them again and kiss Brendon, taste himself in Brendon's mouth. Brendon's starting to smell desperate now, thick and overwhelming, and Spencer groans and tugs at his hips, pulling Brendon closer.

"Spencer, Spencer," Brendon pants, his voice hoarse, and Spencer presses his nose to Brendon's skin and licks again, reaching down between Brendon's spread legs and making a loose fist around Brendon's cock. Brendon's hips jerk back and he drops his head down to rest against Spencer's thigh, whining when Spencer presses his tongue back inside. This was possibly Spencer's best idea yet - he fucking loves Brendon on top of him like this, loves how good Brendon smells as he starts to get fully hard again in Spencer's hand. Spencer pulls Brendon's cock between his legs and jerks him off slowly, groaning when Brendon twitches around his tongue. It never fails to turn him on, how much Brendon loves this, how he whines and presses back onto Spencer's tongue. The dark, possessive part of Spencer still loves it when he thinks of how he's the only person who's ever done this to Brendon, the only person who's ever tasted him like this. Spencer groans a little and strains forward, trying to get his tongue deeper as Brendon twitches in his hand, his cock full and hard again.

Brendon rocks back against Spencer's mouth and hand, his mouth open, panting against Spencer's thigh. Brendon's cock starts to get slick with pre-come and Spencer can't help himself, pulling away from Brendon's ass and sliding down just enough to be able to reach his cock. Spencer licks over him, sucking at Brendon's slit, trying to get more of his taste, and Brendon whines high and desperate, his cock twitching in Spencer's hand. Spencer uses his free hand to push Brendon's thighs open more so he spreads out and drops a little lower, letting Spencer reach up easily and slide two fingers inside of Brendon's body. It's mostly selfish on Spencer's part - he wants to get Brendon off now, wants to taste him - but it's not like Brendon's complaining. He just clenches down around Spencer's fingers and groans out, "More, oh fuck, come on."

And it's not like Spencer can say no to that. Spencer starts to jerk Brendon off slowly, tugging at his cock and fitting his mouth around the head, sucking lightly and moaning appreciatively when he tastes pre-come. Brendon shudders and squeezes down harder around Spencer's fingers, like he's trying to draw them deeper inside.

"Spencer," Brendon whines, and Spencer rubs his thumb over the strip of skin right below where his fingers are pressed deep into Brendon.

"Come on, Brendon," Spencer says, his own voice rough, and he swallows around as much of Brendon's cock as he can without gagging, slipping in a third finger and fucking Brendon quick and rough, twisting his fingers inside in a way that never fails to make Brendon go crazy. Brendon's so close, his thighs shaking and his hips moving back shakily, trying to rush Spencer's rhythm. Spencer presses his fingers in deep, rubbing hard and insistent as he licks beneath the head of Brendon's dick, and Brendon comes in Spencer's mouth with a raw-sounding cry. Spencer groans, licking over Brendon's cock after he's swallowed to chase the taste, and Brendon whines and shudders, his hips twitching away from Spencer's mouth and fingers.

"Too much," he gasps. "I can't even-- Spencer," and Brendon turns around as soon as Spencer lets him go, curling up against Spencer's side, still shivering from his orgasm and trying to catch his breath. Spencer pulls him close and runs his hand over Brendon's spine, pulling it back sheepishly when his fingers start to stray down toward Brendon's ass. Spencer's still hard and he really would not say no to another orgasm, but Brendon's pretty obviously way too sensitive, his heart still racing and his fingers twitching mindlessly against Spencer's chest.

"That-- shit," Brendon says after a few minutes. "I don't know if I've ever gotten hard again that fast."

"Not with me, at least," Spencer says, petting at Brendon's hair. "Perma-boner days not included, obviously."

"Have you been clocking me?" Brendon asks incredulously.

"No!" Spencer says. "Not really. Not, like, with a watch or anything, it's just that it usually takes you like half an hour before you can go again."

"Wow," Brendon says, flicking Spencer in the middle of the chest. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"I would say that you should be proud of your impressive recovery time," Spencer suggests.

"Tell me why I was so desperate to have sex with you again?" Brendon groans sleepily against Spencer's chest.

"It's my animal magnetism," Spencer says, completely straight-faced.

"Wow," Brendon says again. "That was a horrible joke, even for you."

"Hey, what does that mean?" Spencer asks, affronted. He's funny, okay? It's one of his selling points.

"It means," Brendon says, poking at the blankets ineffectually with his toes until Spencer reaches down and drags them up, "that I'm not even going to feel a little bit bad three minutes from now when I fall asleep instead of getting you off again."

"Hey, wait," Spencer says as Brendon tugs the blankets up, tucking himself in against Spencer's chest. "Brendon, wait, I didn't know that was an option."

"It's not anymore," Brendon yawns, sticking his feet underneath Spencer's. "Now get the lamp. I'm too tired to move."

Spencer groans, because he's comfy with Brendon tucked into his chest, but he sits up and leans over to turn the lamp off anyway. Brendon makes a happy noise and presses himself back against Spencer when Spencer lies down, and he lets the hand resting at the small of Brendon's back tug him closer. Spencer's just about to close his eyes when Brendon leans up, kissing him softly on the mouth. Spencer kisses back for a few seconds, pointedly ignoring his hard-on.

"See? I told you we didn't have anything to worry about," Brendon says, tucking his face into Spencer's neck.

"Not this time," Spencer mumbles.

"Knock it off," Brendon says, smacking lightly at Spencer's chest. "Don't be mean to my boyfriend."

"You are a complete dork, oh my god," Spencer groans, grinning despite himself and trying to tug Brendon even closer.

"Spencer," Brendon says, wiggling in his arms. "I love you and all, but you are going to crack my ribs."

"See?" Spencer says pointedly, loosening his grip a little.

"Oh shut up, asshole," Brendon says around a yawn. "You're not going to hurt me on purpose, Spencer," Brendon says sleepily. "You wouldn't let yourself. If I didn't believe that I wouldn't push the issue, okay?"

Spencer doesn't answer, just drops a kiss on Brendon's head and nuzzles his nose into the damp hair at Brendon's forehead. They both really could use showers, but Brendon's breathing is starting to even out and the last thing Spencer wants to do is move.

He rubs slowly at Brendon's back, grinning to himself when Brendon starts to snore lightly. It's weird, when Spencer thinks about it - how much Brendon automatically trusts him, like Spencer isn't a total freak of nature. Spencer still doesn't feel like he deserves it, like it's stupid and reckless and one of them is going to get hurt, actually hurt. But Spencer didn't have any problem controlling himself this time, either. He can feel the way his body responds to things like the way Brendon tastes and smells and sounds, but Spencer didn't have to hold himself back, didn't have to worry about hurting Brendon, even so soon after last time. Part of him wonders if it's just the knowledge that there's not much else he can do, but deep down Spencer knows he could never hurt Brendon. Not really hurt him, anyway. Just the thought makes his stomach go heavy and cold, and he pulls Brendon a little closer on instinct.

Brendon's mouth leaves a little trail of drool on Spencer's collarbone as he shifts, and Spencer grins and presses a kiss to Brendon's temple before sliding down a little farther and settling in. Brendon snuffles against his chest and burrows closer, wrapping his leg around Spencer's, and Spencer only gives one last, sad thought for his still hard cock before finally closing his eyes and falling asleep to the sound of Brendon's light snores.

-

Spencer can feel the fight coming on from the minute they step into the practice space. If the nervous looks Jon keeps shooting him as Ryan gets increasingly frustrated with the guitar parts are any indication, he's not alone.

"Why can't we just do it like this?" Ryan asks, playing a riff that sounds almost identical to one they already have laid down.

"Because we've already written that song, Ryan," Brendon says, his voice carefully even.

"It's a musical," Ryan says. "It can be like a reprise."

"Is this song a reprise?" Brendon asks.

"I don't know yet," Ryan says, fiddling with the strap of his guitar. "Maybe."

"If it's not a reprise," Brendon says patiently, "or it doesn't have anything to do with the other song, I don't want the same guitar riff in it."

"It's not the same one," Ryan says, his voice starting to rise. "The chords in the middle are entirely different."

"For about three seconds," Brendon finally snaps. "That doesn't make it different, it makes it redundant."

"I like it," Ryan says, shooting Brendon a pointed look. "So maybe you should just play what I tell you to play and shut up."

"Ryan--" Jon warns.

"No, hey," Brendon says. "It's fine. If he wants to be a complete asshole about his shitty guitar part on his shitty song on his shitty album, that's just fucking fine. He can have fun playing it to the twelve kids who'll show up to our shows once we release this piece of shit."

"Brendon," Spencer cautions. He can practically see Ryan's hackles rise as he turns on Brendon.

"Maybe if you could fucking sing what we're writing you wouldn't be so concerned with the guitar," Ryan spits out.

"We?" Brendon laughs. "Ryan, you haven't let any of us write with you or even see what the fuck you're writing for a month. I have no idea what this thing's even about any more. You just show up here and shove your notes in my face and expect me to make sense out of words that haven't been used since the 19th century. Eutrapely? I looked that up in the dictionary. It wasn't there."

"It means pleasant conversation," Ryan says archly. "I'm absolutely shocked that you don't know what that one means."

Spencer can feel himself start to get defensive, his eyes snapping back and forth between Ryan and Brendon, wanting to defend both of them at the same time. He knows how this will play out, though - Ryan will say something stupid to Brendon in the heat of the moment, Spencer won't be able to help himself from growling, and then it will turn into that fight. He can't handle that shit right now, not when it's two days until the moon and he's so worried about Brendon it's all he can think about.

"Okay," Spencer snaps, hitting his cymbal with a loud bang. "If you two want to go at each other instead of actually trying to play something, have fun. I'm not dealing with this shit right now."

"Yeah," Jon says, setting his bass down and hurrying after Spencer as he heads for the door. "I'm just gonna--"

Spencer doesn't even try to hear what Brendon or Ryan have to say as he makes his way down the hall, only stopping to look back when he gets to the stairs.

"So," Jon says, and Spencer's known Jon long enough to recognize the way his eyes scrunch up a little when he's stressed. Spencer can't blame him. "Roof?"

Spencer grins, because "roof" is Jon-shorthand for "We should go get high on the roof."

"Yeah," Spencer says, heading down the hall to the window. "Let's hurry up before Ryan brings up that time in Syracuse."

"Yeah, definitely do not want to be around for that," Jon says, wincing before crawling out the window and onto the roof. Spencer follows him up, a shock of cold spring air hitting his face. Spencer breathes in as he settles down next to Jon, his nose trying to identify all the individual smells before Spencer remembers to turn it off. Jon pulls a joint out of his back pocket with an expression of pure delight, tossing Spencer his lighter and cupping his hands around it while Spencer lights it.

"I love that you always have a joint on hand," Spencer says, taking a hit when Jon passes it over.

Jon takes it back when Spencer offers, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out the corner of his mouth. "A boy scout is always prepared," he says. "With marijuana."

Spencer takes a few more hits before he waves Jon off. He hasn't really gotten truly high since he was turned, and he's pretty sure it would take more than one joint to do the trick now. It still takes the edge off, though, calms Spencer down just enough that he can breathe without feeling like there's a weight on his chest. He flicks Jon's lighter open absent-mindedly, striking it and staring into the flame.

"You okay, dude?" Jon asks after a minute. "You're not going to go all Carrie on us, are you?"

"She set fire to stuff with her brain, not a lighter," Spencer says.

"Fine, I'll rephrase. Please don't set anything on fire," Jon says, reaching over and flicking the cap down.

"Spoilsport," Spencer says, tucking the lighter into Jon's pocket.

"Spencer Smith," Jon says, his voice starting to go a little lazy. "Are you getting fresh with me? Brendon's my friend, you know."

Spencer rolls his eyes, grabbing the joint out of Jon's hand and taking another drag just for the hell of it.

"I couldn't help it," Spencer says, blowing a half-hearted smoke ring that the wind destroys almost immediately. "You're irresistible."

"So I've been told," Jon grins, plucking the joint out of Spencer's fingers. "Now seriously," he says after taking a long drag, "what's up? I tried to make Ryan tell me, but he wouldn't cave, even when I tickled him."

"You two are gayer than me and Brendon put together," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"That's so heteronormative of you," Jon says sadly. "I expected better."

"Stop listening to anything Ryan says, ever," Spencer advises, leaning back onto his elbows. The shingles dig into his elbows, but Spencer doesn't care, just tilts his head back and closes his eyes and lets the sun shine down on his face. "I bit Brendon," he says after a minute of Jon waiting patiently in that Jon-specific way he has.

"Shit," Jon says, dropping the end of the joint in surprise. "Aww, shit," he repeats sadly, looking over the edge of the roof.

"I swear to god you're going to set the entire forest on fire," Spencer says, but the words come out hoarse.

"Is Brendon a werewolf now?" Jon asks when he looks back up.

"We don't know. We have to wait and find out the fun way." Spencer's throat is dry and scratchy, and he isn't sure how much of it is due to the pot.

"Dude," Jon says, and Spencer grins in spite of himself because Jon manages to convey everything Spencer is feeling in one word.

"Yeah," he says, hauling himself back up and brushing off his elbows. "So I just kind of couldn't-- I mean, I have a lot of shit on my mind, you know?" he says. "I couldn't really watch The Ryan and Brendon Show right now." He feels a little better already, though, just from having told Jon.

"Hey, shit, I haven't even possibly turned someone into a werewolf and I couldn't take it," Jon says. "You're completely justified."

"It's just--" Spencer says, trailing off and staring off into the forest.

"That this album blows and Ryan's not ready to admit it?"

"Pretty much," Spencer says.

"Not just me then, good." Jon nods.

"He's just, well, Ryan," Spencer says with shrug. "You kind of have to let him figure things out on his own, you know?"

"I was there for the rosevest, and then the ceremonial abandoning of the rosevest," Jon says. "I gotcha."

"Jesus," Spencer laughs, scrubbing his hand over his face. His beard is going kind of crazy. The hair grows out fast and sudden the week before the moon and then sticks straight out, like it's not used to being on his face. "That is one aesthetic I'm not looking forward to reliving."

"I don't know," Jon says. "Could be interesting. Brocade and a beard? Knowing Ryan, though, we'll all have to wear actual wolf masks on stage."

"Not Brendon, though," Spencer adds, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a little bit more. "Little Red Riding Hood all the way."

"Dude," Jon says gravely, pulling another joint out of his pocket. "I really did not need to picture that."

-

Brendon storms into their room around midnight, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched. "If I am a werewolf," Brendon says, kicking his shoes off and yanking down his pants, "the very first thing I'm doing is mauling Ryan."

"Can't do that," Spencer says, not so subtly watching Brendon get undressed. "It's against the code."

"There is not a werewolf code," Brendon says, cracking his back as he pulls his shirt off. "If there was, they would have kicked you out the first time you peed on those flower beds."

"That never happened," Spencer groans. "Ryan is lying about that, and I don't understand why no one wants to believe me."

"Because it's funnier if he's telling the truth," Brendon says, dropping down onto the mattress in his briefs and moaning obnoxiously when Spencer reaches up to rub at his shoulders.

"Any progress?" Spencer asks, sitting up fully and pulling Brendon back between his legs so he can get at his neck better.

"Depends on how you define progress," Brendon says, rolling his shoulders under Spencer's hands. "I, for instance, define it as making progress, but Ryan defines it as getting his way, so."

"So no, then," Spencer says.

Brendon doesn't answer, just drops his head forward and relaxes even more when Spencer darts forward and kisses at the nape of his neck. "You are so easy," he mumbles, going lax under Spencer's hands.

"Like you're not," Spencer says, squeezing at Brendon's shoulders to prove his point.

"You are super strong and give really good neck rubs," Brendon says. "I'd be stupid not to take advantage of that." Brendon still smells wrong, worried and stressed out, but he's relaxed under Spencer's hands, warm and loose, and Spencer can't help it that he's hard. It's not even that he particularly wants to have sex, aside from how he always wants to have sex. He's almost sick with worry and just glad to have Brendon near. Besides, Spencer's pretty sure that even if he still feels this scared tomorrow, his body's not going to let him say no, so he might as well take the opportunity to get some sleep.

"Bed?" he asks, pulling Brendon back against him.

"You don't want to--" Brendon says, turning around in his arms a little.

"Always," Spencer says, "but today has been a shitty day and tomorrow is going to be worse, so let's just sleep, okay?"

Brendon turns in his arms and kisses him, sweet and slow, and Spencer's seriously starting to reconsider things when Brendon pulls away, resting his forehead against Spencer's. "Even if you did accidentally turn me into a werewolf," Brendon says, "you're still a pretty awesome boyfriend."

"That's just the neck rub talking," Spencer replies, tipping them sideways and tugging the covers up over them.

"I need to brush my teeth," Brendon says, his voice already low and sleepy.

"I really doubt that's going to happen," Spencer says, nosing into Brendon's neck and pulling him close.

"Enjoy my morning breath, then," Brendon mutters, his breathing already evening out, going slow.

Spencer grins, tightening his arm around Brendon's waist and closing his eyes.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Spencer wakes up insanely close to coming with Brendon straddling his thigh, rocking back and forth as he noses behind Spencer's ear. "Well," Spencer says breathlessly once he's sure he's not dreaming. "Good morning."

"Mmm-hmm," Brendon says, sucking at his jaw. "Fuck me."

Heat rushes into Spencer's stomach, just like that, but he presses his hands firmly to Brendon's lower back, trying to stop Brendon from squirming so much. Things are different this time, they are, even if Spencer's body isn't paying attention to the guilt he still feels for biting Brendon. "Are you sure you don't want to brush your teeth?"

Brendon groans, his mouth open to kiss and suck over Spencer's neck. Spencer doesn't have to ask to figure out that Brendon has heightened smell and taste like last time. "No. I want you to fuck me."

"But what about--"

"For fuck's sake, Spencer. It's a good thing I already fingered myself," Brendon mumbles. Before Spencer can ask - or squeeze the base of his cock before he comes in his boxers, because seriously - Brendon is pulling Spencer's cock out and lining him up, sinking down slowly.

"What-- I-- Brendon," Spencer groans, his hands going straight for Brendon's hips, holding tight as Brendon kneels over Spencer and starts to rock his hips down.

"You sleep too long," Brendon says, and he grabs at Spencer's shoulders and pushes his ass back on Spencer's cock, hard, going tight around Spencer when he does. Brendon plays dirty.

"Holy shit," Spencer whines. Brendon smells so good, feels so good riding Spencer, and he's close again, struggling to hold back. "Shit, Brendon, I'm going to--"

"Then stop talking and come," Brendon moans, and Spencer can't really argue with that. He tilts his head back and lets go, coming as Brendon's still rocking down on his cock, and Spencer doesn't stop himself from reaching back to touch where his cock disappears into Brendon. Spencer's still twitching, his whole body buzzing from his orgasm, and they're both wet with his come as it slides down his cock.

"Okay, wait," Spencer says, voice rough, and he has to reach up to grab at Brendon's hips again because Brendon won't stop moving and Spencer is still hard inside him, but that's not the point. Now that Spencer's fully awake, all the guilt and worry over tomorrow comes flooding back to his mind. "Are you sure-- shouldn't we wait and see how you feel?"

"Spencer," Brendon groans, trying to grind his hips down even with Spencer holding him in place. "I feel horny and I want to have sex. Stop beating yourself up and fuck me already, god."

Spencer feels like making Brendon wait would be the right thing to do, but really, he's only so strong and Brendon is playing really dirty. Spencer makes a frustrated noise and sits up suddenly, his hands sliding down to grab at Brendon's ass when he does. Brendon whines when Spencer's cock sinks in deeper, and he loops his arms around Spencer's neck so he stays upright in Spencer's lap, bracing his feet on the bed behind Spencer and pushing back on his cock.

"Yes, yes, this is good," Brendon moans. He tilts his head back as he works himself on Spencer's cock, and Spencer feels a surge of possession, his wolf brain taking it as submission. Spencer darts forward to suck at the front of Brendon's throat, trailing kisses hard enough to bruise down to his collarbone. Brendon's skin is already a little slick with sweat, his scent growing stronger and stronger as he gets closer to coming.

"Just good?" Spencer asks, using his hands on Brendon's ass to spread him open, jerking his hips up to fuck into him. Brendon shudders, clenching down tightly around Spencer and tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Spencer's head, tugging.

"Great. This is great, please touch my dick," Brendon whines, leaning forward to kiss Spencer hard on the mouth. Spencer kisses back, lips moving together wetly, and he lets go of Brendon's ass with one hand to reach between them, jerking Brendon off roughly.

Brendon's breath hitches right next to Spencer's ear and he comes between their bodies, hot and wet over their stomachs. Spencer fucks him through it, starting to feel the burn in his thighs from thrusting up into Brendon, but not caring enough to want to stop. Brendon's still hard in Spencer's hand as he kisses Spencer blindly again, tongues and teeth clashing, and it's awesome.

"More," Brendon says, already starting to push his ass back down on Spencer's cock again. "More, more."

Spencer laughs, kissing right underneath Brendon's ear and feeling him shiver. "Whatever you say, greedy. Lie back."

Brendon makes a happy noise and falls back down onto the bed, his legs still spread over Spencer's thighs and Spencer's cock pressed deep inside. Spencer's thighs are still burning with the strain of their earlier position, and he ends up falling down with his legs spread out beneath Brendon's, out on either side of them, instead of on his knees like he had originally intended. "Oh shit," he says, "Sorry, I--"

Brendon cuts him off with a groan, throwing his head back. "Oh my god," he gasps. "Oh my god, stay right there." His chest is flushed dark pink and Spencer feels that rush of heat again, grabbing Brendon's hips and pulling him forward onto Spencer's cock. "Yes, yeah, come on," Brendon groans, trying to press closer even though Spencer's got him firm by the hips, pulled in as close to his body as he can manage. Spencer's tempted to stay like this, pressed as close as he can while he grinds into Brendon's body, but Brendon's thighs are shaking, his entire body straining up under Spencer's hands, trying to get more. Spencer knows what it feels like, knows exactly what it feels like, and he lifts Brendon's hips up to just the right angle and thrusts in hard, letting Brendon arch forward onto his cock. It's really not going to take much for Spencer to come again, and he can smell how close Brendon is, but he wants to draw it out. He doesn't particularly feel like being anywhere else right now.

So of course that's when his stomach growls loudly. Brendon starts laughing, loud and breathless, and Spencer groans when it makes Brendon clench down around his cock in new and entirely interesting ways. "We could always multitask," Brendon gasps out. "Don't even lie and tell me eating bacon off my chest while you fuck me is not something you'd be into."

"Oh my god," Spencer groans, "I should pull out right now and leave you like this."

"I notice that's not a no."

"No," Spencer growls, snapping his hips forward. "Now shut up and come."

"Such a sweet talker," Brendon says, his voice breaking on the end when Spencer shifts his hips and gets just a little bit deeper. "But yeah, okay."

Spencer grins and reaches for Brendon's cock, and it really does not take long before Brendon's body is going tight and he's coming, wet over Spencer's hand, his head tilted to the side and mouth open. It's so hot, the way Brendon looks spread out in front of Spencer like this, the way his stomach muscles twitch and jump. Spencer tries to lean down to sink his mouth around Brendon's cock, but the position makes it impossible and he has to settle for sucking his fingers into his mouth, tasting Brendon shamelessly while Brendon stares up at him, flushed, his eyes wide and dark. Spencer groans and comes like that, his hips jerking forward into Brendon without any rhythm.

"Bring me food," Brendon gasps out after a minute, panting and squeezing around Spencer's cock. "I need sustenance."

"You bring me food," Spencer groans, pulling out and falling flat onto his back. Brendon pokes at Spencer's waist with his toes, digging them into Spencer's ribs until Spencer squawks and smacks at Brendon's foot. "Stop that."

"Fooood," Brendon groans, hauling himself up to rest against the pillows. "Spencer," he says, dropping his voice and running his toes up the inside of Spencer's thigh. "Spencer, don't you want to bring me food?"

"I can't believe you are doing this right now," Spencer says, lifting up on his elbows to stare at Brendon.

"This is all new to me!" Brendon says. "You go make us bacon and I'll stay here and jerk off."

"How is that an incentive for me to leave? You're going to wear yourself out."

"When have you ever worn yourself out?" Brendon asks, letting his fingers stray down to his cock.

"It's happened," Spencer says, forcing himself to sit up on the bed and rummage around the floor for pants. "Once or twice."

"Food," Brendon says, darting forward and kissing at the back of Spencer's neck. "If you're quick, I might even hold off on coming until you're back."

"Gee," Spencer says. "Thanks."

-

"No bacon," Spencer says sadly when he walks back in the room. "But I just grabbed a pack of ham and-- oh god dammit."

"You can feed me ham while I jerk off?" Brendon suggests, his hand still moving leisurely over his cock.

"I'm never letting you forget that you said that." Spencer sets their food on the side table and swats Brendon's hand away from his dick when Brendon reaches for him. "Please at least use a fork," Spencer says, sitting on the bed with his plate, and Brendon makes a face.

"It's not like you're squeamish when you--"

"Humor me," Spencer mumbles, and he's thankful when Brendon sits up on the bed next to him, eating without trying to initiate sex. Or at least not until he takes the last bite of toast. Spencer's drinking from his glass of milk and Brendon's still chewing as he crawls forward, nuzzling at Spencer's shoulder.

"Oh my god," Spencer says after he swallows, setting his glass down. "Calm the fuck down."

"It's not like you're entirely rational and controlled," Brendon says. "It's all itchy."

"'Cause of the moon," Spencer says around his last bite of egg, trying very hard not to show how much Brendon feeling the itchiness concerns him. "And for the record, I have never once tried to fuck you while still chewing," Spencer says, letting Brendon set his plate and glass down onto the floor.

"Look," Brendon says, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. "All done."

"I seriously almost don't even want to fuck you right now," Spencer says, but he's lying and Brendon totally knows it. Spencer's hard-on is kind of a dead giveaway, even through his sweatpants.

"Okay," Brendon says in a low voice, sliding his hand down past the waistband of Spencer's pants. "If you're sure, then. I guess I'll just go jerk off some more. By myself."

"Oh, fuck you," Spencer mumbles, pulling his shirt off quickly and ignoring Brendon's wide grin as he helps Spencer out of his pants.

"Now as I was saying," Brendon continues, reaching for his own cock, "I'll just-- oof."

Spencer flips Brendon over onto his stomach, sliding back in all at once and pressing him down into the mattress. "You were saying?"

"I was saying this is good," Brendon gasps, bucking under Spencer's weight. "Great idea, is what I was saying."

"Mmhmm," Spencer hums, letting Brendon relax around his cock before starting to thrust in slowly, his hips pressing against Brendon's ass when he's in deep. Brendon just shudders and arches his back, trying to push his ass up so Spencer will sink in deeper. Now that the edge is off, Spencer doesn't feel rushed to come or to make Brendon come. He just presses his nose down into the crook of Brendon's neck and breathes in, letting Brendon fill his senses, his scent and the heat of his skin. He likes the way Brendon squirms underneath him, open and warm and whining while Spencer just grinds his cock in.

"You're doing this on purpose," Brendon says softly, his voice rough already, and Spencer kisses at the side of Brendon's neck, sucking lightly at the skin when it makes Brendon clench down around Spencer's cock.

"You complaining?" he asks.

"Not really," Brendon says, tilting his head to the side so Spencer can get at his neck. "Just an observation."

Spencer doesn't answer, just rubs his nose along Brendon's hairline as he presses in deep, sliding his hands up Brendon's arms and folding his fingers in with Brendon's, holding on as he pushes Brendon down into the bed.

"Jesus," Brendon says, shivering a little beneath Spencer, and seriously. Spencer loves Brendon and he loves sex with Brendon, but nothing is ever as good as this, pressed all along Brendon's body with his cock buried deep while Brendon is all he can smell. Spencer's well aware that this is what got him in trouble the last time, and he's already having to clamp down on his urge to bite down, to hold Brendon in place even though he's not going anywhere. It's always like this, but it's so much worse before the moon. Spencer just needs to take, needs to make sure Brendon knows that he's Spencer's. He settles for licking over Brendon's neck instead, his mouth focusing over the place he bit Brendon, where the skin is still bruised. Brendon hisses and arches up, a fresh wave of arousal washing over him, and Spencer groans into his skin.

"Spencer," Brendon says helplessly, his fingers squeezing down around Spencer's where their hands are still intertwined. "I-- I don't even," he babbles, straining his neck back to give Spencer more access. "Come on, just keep--" Brendon trails off, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching down around Spencer as he comes, his cock trapped between his belly and the mattress. Spencer growls low in his throat at the smell, and Brendon shudders when Spencer sucks even harder at the mark, pressing Brendon's hips down into the bed as he pushes in as deep as he can and comes, wet and hot inside of Brendon.

"More," Brendon says, his voice rough and demanding. "Come on."

"No, like this," Spencer says, finally releasing Brendon's neck and dropping his head to Brendon's shoulder, twisting his neck awkwardly for a kiss. Brendon can mostly just reach the corner of Spencer's mouth, but Spencer moans into it anyway, rolling his hips slowly and thrusting deep into Brendon. He can't help it, he wants to stay close right now, as close as he can. He wants Brendon like this always, warm and sweaty and his, and Spencer doesn't realize just how hard he's snapping his hips into Brendon until Brendon whines, high in his throat.

"Please, Spencer," Brendon gasps. "I need to-- come on, up, up."

Spencer growls again, pressing his hips down harder, but Brendon bucks up beneath him and Spencer pulls back with a groan, letting Brendon rise up to his knees. Brendon drops down to all fours, reaching behind himself to yank at Spencer's hip. "C'mon," he says, his hand letting go of Spencer's hip and going straight for his cock. Spencer rolls his eyes, but it's not like Brendon on his hands and knees is a bad thing. Spencer groans as he presses back in, the slide slick and hot from his come. Brendon presses back against him immediately, rocking his hips in time with the rhythm of his hand, and Spencer lets him, rubbing his hands up and down the slick skin of Brendon's back and watching as his cock slides in and out of Brendon wetly. He can't resist sliding his hands down to Brendon's ass, holding him open while he thrusts in harder, and Brendon's smell grows thicker, his head ducking down when he whines.

Brendon comes again a few seconds later, and Spencer feels dizzy as he watches Brendon clench down around his cock, his hips stuttering back while he jerks himself through it. Spencer leans down and presses himself all along Brendon's back, smiling a little into Brendon's skin when Brendon doesn't let go of his cock. "This is so insane," he pants out. "I keep coming and coming but I still want--"

"Yeah," Spencer says, licking at the sweat at Brendon's hairline. "I know the feeling." Spencer can't quite get close enough like this. It's like he can't feel enough of Brendon's skin, so he keeps his arms tight around Brendon's chest, pressing close behind his body as he pulls them both up on their knees.

"Oh god," Brendon moans. "Spencer, shit." Spencer's cock slips out but he quickly presses back inside, angling his hips up to thrust deep into Brendon. It's more awkward like this, but Spencer doesn't want to pull away from Brendon's back or take his face away from Brendon's neck, where he smells so good, his skin flushed and sweating.

"Closer," Spencer mumbles, "I like it when we're close," and Brendon just nods, one hand reaching back down for his cock and the other coming up to tangle in Spencer's hair.

"Yours," Brendon says softly, so quietly Spencer almost can't hear him over their heartbeats. "No matter what." Just like that, though, Spencer's stilling his hips and coming inside Brendon, mouthing desperately at Brendon's shoulder.

Brendon lets out a cry that's almost pained, and Spencer pulls back reluctantly. "No," Brendon says, his hand tightening in Spencer's hair. "No, it's okay, it's just--"

"A lot, I know," Spencer says, pulling Brendon down onto the bed. "It's okay, we can take a break," he says breathlessly, pushing at Brendon's shoulder until Brendon gets the hint and turns over, resting his head on Spencer's chest.

"But I'm still hard," Brendon says, and Spencer snorts out a loud laugh before he can help himself.

"God, you're going to be insufferable if you become an actual werewolf," Spencer says, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"We'll never get any work done again," Brendon says, hitching his leg up to tangle with Spencer's. "We'll be on VH1 in 20 years, Promising Emo Heartthrobs Derailed by Insatiable Sexual Appetites."

"That sounds more like The Enquirer," Spencer says, letting his hand stray down to Brendon's ass, his fingers petting over Brendon where he's wet and still open.

"That's not exactly encouraging me to take a break," Brendon says, but his heart is beating slower, more even now, and he sounds a little tired.

"Let's nap," Spencer says, wrapping his free arm around Brendon's waist. "You won't sleep long like this, I promise. I'll get us some food when you wake up, and then we can have some more sex."

"A lot more sex," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's chest.

"A lot," Spencer agrees, burying his nose into Brendon's hair.

-

"No, seriously," Spencer gasps. "We have to stop."

"We can go again," Brendon whines into his throat. Brendon's curled up on Spencer's chest, his legs tucked in on either side of Spencer, and his ass pressing back just far enough to keep Spencer's cock inside. The last thing Spencer wants to do is stop, but his actual dick is tired. Brendon's been even worse than last time, and Spencer's kind of terrified of what that means, but he can't help it. Everything in him is telling him to keep going, to get Brendon closer, but Spencer just can't. Brendon's mostly gone soft, and Spencer's pretty sure he would be too if Brendon weren't clenching around him so hard.

"Brendon," Spencer says. "It's bedtime."

"A good night fuck, then," Brendon says sleepily.

"You are fucking ridiculous," Spencer says, brushing Brendon's sweaty hair back and kissing his forehead. Brendon finally relaxes a little, thankfully easing up on Spencer's cock, and Spencer slides out with a wet noise that's hot even though it shouldn't be. "We should shower," he says, hoping Brendon will say no.

"No," Brendon says, and, well, that was easy. "I'm not moving. You're not moving. We're staying right here." Brendon pushes his ass back once more, dragging over Spencer's cock, but when he grins at Spencer's groan, Spencer's pretty sure it's just because Brendon is an asshole. He stretches his legs out and shifts until he's lying half on top of Spencer, his cheek resting on Spencer's chest, and Spencer slides an arm around Brendon's back, cupping his hip. It takes a little more shifting until they're both comfortable, or as comfortable as they can be when they're both covered in sweat and drying come. Spencer doesn't mind so much, though, as he noses at the top of Brendon's head, and when Brendon snuggles in closer, Spencer assumes Brendon's doesn't mind that much either.

"'Night. Love you," Brendon mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to Spencer's collarbone, and Spencer's chest tightens.

"Love you too," Spencer says. He's warm and exhausted and has Brendon close and safe in his arms, but Spencer still can't quite fall asleep. All he can think about is the moon tomorrow. He hopes Brendon doesn't notice the way his heart speeds up just from thinking about it, thinking about Brendon going through the same painful, disorienting change that Spencer has to go through. Brendon's his mate, and Spencer's supposed to protect him, not possibly change his entire life because he couldn't control himself during sex.

Spencer closes his eyes and listens to Brendon breathe, trying to keep his mind blank, but he keeps coming back to Brendon, huddled on the floor and crying out as his bones crack and reform, his face twisted up in pain. Spencer pulls Brendon closer, and Brendon makes a tiny noise in his sleep, snuggling closer. Spencer's chest is tight and his throat aches, and he squeezes his eyes shut until they stop burning. There's no use in crying until he knows for sure if he's ruined Brendon's life or not. Spencer tips his head to the side to stare out the window, the moon heavy and round in the sky, making his skin tight and itchy with anticipation. He doesn't get to sleep any time soon, the moon and heavy weight of his guilt keeping him up, but exhaustion eventually takes over right before sunrise, and Spencer finally drifts off to sleep.

-

Brendon's still mostly curled up on his chest when Spencer wakes up, and his muscles protest from the extra weight when he tries to stretch.

"Stoppit," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's shoulder, his knee digging into Spencer's side.

"You stop it," Spencer groans. "How did you even stay asleep like that, oh my god."

"It was comfortable," Brendon whines, nosing at Spencer's collarbone. "I miss being able to smell you."

"Pretty sure you can still smell me," Spencer says, squeezing Brendon's hips before he turns them over onto their sides. "We reek."

"You know what I mean," Brendon says, shifting himself around until he's curled up against Spencer again.

"Are you still itchy?" Spencer asks, dreading Brendon's answer.

"Oh god, yes," Brendon says, his hand immediately going for his stomach. "Thanks for reminding me, asshole."

"Not that kind of itchy," Spencer says.

"Oh, that. No," Brendon says. "That's just on the day before the moon. It's your weirdo wolf pheromone thing."

"Oh," Spencer breathes. "Oh, you didn't mention it last time."

"I was too distracted by my never-ending boner," Brendon says around a yawn. "What's it matter?"

"Nothing," Spencer says, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of Brendon's neck. "It's nothing. You want to take a shower and then I'll make us breakfast?"

"Or," Brendon says, pulling back from Spencer and snuggling back down into his pillow, "you could go make us breakfast and I'll sleep until you bring me food."

"Yeah, or that," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and dropping a kiss to the top of Brendon's head. Brendon's already snoring lightly by the time he finds his clothes and slips out the door.

-

"Hey," Ryan says, shuffling his feet when Spencer comes into the kitchen. "I, um," and then he cuts off and darts in, hugging Spencer awkwardly with one arm. "So, sorry," he says. "I know the whole Brendon thing is kind of fucked up, and I didn't want to make it worse on you."

"Aww," Spencer says, "that was like an actual adult apology!"

"Oh, fuck you," Ryan snaps, struggling under Spencer's arm in an attempt to get away.

"Thanks," Spencer says quietly, squeezing Ryan against him before letting him go.

Ryan still looks a little miffed, but he just rolls his eyes at Spencer and reaches around him to grab a mug. "Is he going to be okay?" Ryan asks quietly a moment later as he's stirring creamer into his coffee.

"I don't know," Spencer says. "I guess we get to find out tonight." Spencer walks over to the fridge to distract himself, his chest already getting that horrible achey feeling again.

"Shit will work out," Ryan says seriously, and Spencer grabs some eggs hastily before he's tempted to hug Ryan again. "I mean, look how you turned out."

"Gee, thanks," Spencer mumbles, cracking the eggs into a mixing bowl.

"Ooh, eggs. Can I have some?"

"I'm making them with cheese," Spencer says, grinning at Ryan's disgusted face.

"Ugh. Gross. I'll eat a Pop-Tart instead."

"You do that," Spencer says, patting Ryan on the head with the spatula.

"Hey, Spence," Ryan says a few minutes later. "Seriously. Do you need me to do anything? Me, or Jon, both of us, we'll help. We want to, if you need something or like--"

"A pony," Brendon says, stumbling sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Tell Jon to get me a fucking pony."

"Why are you not upstairs?" Spencer asks.

"Why are you not wearing pants?" Ryan asks, horrified.

"Oh my god, Brendon," Spencer groans, because Brendon is wearing a giant hoodie that Spencer is pretty sure used to be Zack's and was stolen by Ryan. His skinny legs are sticking out from the bottom, because he is definitely not wearing pants.

"I couldn't find pants," he says, going up on his tiptoes to kiss Spencer's cheek but mostly hitting the corner of his eye. "Do those have cheese in them?"

"Yes, Brendon," Spencer says, smiling fondly in spite of himself.

"Excellent," Brendon declares, falling heavily into a chair. "Ross, go fetch me some coffee, I might be a werewolf."

"You're disgusting. You like gross eggs and you don't wear pants and I don't even care if you turn into a werewolf," Ryan says, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

"You'll care when I piss on your shoes," Brendon says. "It's the first thing on my list if I turn into a werewolf."

"I don't have to take this," Ryan says. "Spencer, I was going to suggest we all go hiking if you were up for it, but now I'm too scared I'd push Brendon over the edge of a mountain."

"Ooh," Brendon says. "We should totally do that. We can have a picnic and see if the ants carry Ryan away!"

"That'd be kind of neat," Jon says, rubbing his eyes as he wanders into the kitchen. "Oh hey, cheesy eggs."

"Fuck all of you," Ryan groans, dropping his head to the table.

-

Spencer only just manages to keep Ryan from pushing Brendon off the mountain for real, but otherwise the hike is pretty uneventful. Jon takes some pictures he thinks Shane would appreciate, and Spencer tries to stop himself from running out into the thick of the woods, the weird itchiness of his body preparing to change making him want to get away. Spencer tries not to let himself hope that Brendon isn't feeling that, the way the change pulls at your body, let's you know something's not right, but he's scared to ask. He herds everyone back after a few hours, the smells too overwhelming this close to the moon, and they all pile into the game room to watch Prisoner of Azkaban, on Jon's insistence.

"Jon," Ryan hisses when Lupin changes on screen. "Really?"

"Oh, right," Jon says. "Uh. Oops?"

Brendon just laughs, throwing his head back on Spencer's shoulder and cuddling closer to his chest, but Spencer can't quite take his eyes off the screen, watching as CGI turns Lupin into a werewolf. He only wishes it were that easy, and he gets a cold shiver of dread down his spine again at the thought of Brendon going through that. "You okay?" Brendon asks quietly when Spencer squeezes him closer.

"Yeah," Spencer says, "just-- you want to go upstairs now?" Brendon nods, grabbing Spencer's hand and pulling him off the couch.

"No offense, Jonathan," Brendon says, "but making out trumps wizards, and Ryan gets so testy when we make out in front of him."

Spencer's seriously glad for the out, and he nods reassuringly at Ryan when Ryan throws him a concerned look. "It's fine," he says, "just maybe leave the back door open and hang out in the studio or something? Just in case?"

"Spencer," Ryan says hesitantly. "Don't you think we should be there? Or at least me? What if--"

"It's fine," Spencer snaps, wincing as soon as the words are out of his mouth. "Ryan, I promise," he says, softer and apologetic. "I can't hurt Brendon, even if he does turn into a wolf. It's a mate thing," he says, trailing off into a mumble into the end.

"Aww," Jon says. "You guys are like penguins! Penguins mate for life!"

"... and so do wolves," Brendon says slowly.

"I like penguins better," Jon says with a shrug. "Or maybe beavers."

"Really?" Ryan says, his voice strained. "Are you honestly having this conversation right now?"

"Ryan," Spencer says, "let's go out back. I want to make sure the outside lights work, and you with your freaky Gumby arms are the only one who can reach them."

"You're just not subtle at all, are you?" Ryan says, but he gets up and follows Spencer with a sigh.

"This," Spencer says as soon as they're outside, "is not your fault."

"It kind of is," Ryan says, staring out at the forest and refusing to meet Spencer's eyes. "I got you bitten, and then you bit Brendon. I'm like, his grand-sire."

"A, that's vampires, and B, that would only work if you were the one who bit me," Spencer says, rubbing at his forehead. He's getting a dull headache right between his eyes. "Look. It's going to be fine, okay? I promise. If Brendon doesn't change then he can--" Spencer stops short, his stomach sinking even lower. He hadn't even thought of that, too worried about what would happen if Brendon did change. If he doesn't, then Brendon's going to see Spencer change. He's going to stand there and watch while Spencer writhes and cries and shouts, and just the thought of it makes Spencer feel sick.

"Spence," Ryan says, questioning.

"No," he says. "It's okay, I'm good, just. Leave this door open okay? And you guys go to the studio or the practice space or something. You know how-- you know that it's loud."

Ryan nods, his jaw clenched, and pats at Spencer's shoulder awkwardly as he walks past.

-

"I honestly thought we were going to make out. You lied to me."

"I didn't lie, I'm just--"

"Pacing?"

"Thinking," Spencer shoots back, but then he realizes this is about the fourteenth time he's walked from the door to the window. He feels restless, worried, nervous, fucking terrified, and it's hard to stay still when there's just all this waiting.

"You think too much, man. C'mere," Brendon says, holding out his hand, and Spencer looks at it warily. "Okay, how about I promise not to pull you onto the bed and sit on your dick? Come here."

Spencer snorts, pretending his cock doesn't twitch a little at that, and he lets Brendon take his hand, tugging him onto the bed. It's comforting, the way it smells like them, and how warm Brendon's hand is where his fingers are touching Spencer's. Brendon leans in to kiss Spencer slowly, and Spencer kisses back after a few seconds, their lips dry but the kiss still nice, still an easy distraction from Spencer's busy mind and the nervous churning in his stomach.

"Shh," Brendon says, like he's reading Spencer's thoughts, and he brings his hand up to cup the back of Spencer's head, kissing him deeper and opening his mouth with Spencer's. Spencer kisses back, trying to keep himself in control, but before long he's kissing Brendon desperate and messy, his hands clinging to the back of Brendon's shirt. "Spencer," Brendon says, pulling back a little. "Hey, hey, it's okay."

"It's not," Spencer says, his voice raw.

"Well, it's going to be, then," Brendon says, pulling him close and letting Spencer cling, letting him bury his nose in Brendon's neck.

"It's going to hurt," Spencer says quietly into Brendon's skin. "If you change, it's going to hurt and it's going to be my fault. And if you don't change, you're going to have watch me change and I can't-- I don't want you to see me like that," Spencer finishes, his voice cracking at the end.

"I don't care," Brendon says fiercely, pulling back until Spencer's forced to look at him. "I told you last time, and I meant it, and I still do. I don't want to see you in pain or anything, but it's not going to-- Spencer, you know it's not going to freak me out, right? Or make me reconsider anything."

"It's just-- I can't explain it," Spencer says. "Ryan, when he tried to stay with me. The look on his face. He couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"Ryan threw up when we watched Saw," Brendon says incredulously. "I love the guy and everything, but do you really want to base your expected reactions on Ryan?"

Spencer laughs in spite of everything, stupidly grateful for Brendon being Brendon. "I love you," he chokes out, because it's important that Brendon knows.

"I love you too," Brendon says, rolling his eyes.

"Aren't you scared?" Spencer asks. "How can you just sit there and--"

"Because if I don't then both of us will be complete messes and then who's going to be the rational one?" Brendon asks. "Yeah," he says. "I'm scared. I'm actually pretty fucking terrified because when I was kid I used to cry when I got splinters and like-- does it hurt more than a bottle to the face?"

Spencer chokes out a startled laugh. "Yeah," he says. "I'm going to say probably so, unless that bottle broke apart every bone in your body and then rearranged them all back together."

"Okay," Brendon says, swallowing. "Yeah, no, I think you win."

"Brendon--" Spencer says, but Brendon just leans forward and kisses him again, soft and a little shaky.

"Hey, you can do it, right?" Brendon says. "And I'm totally tougher than you."

"We have already had this conversation," Spencer says.

"Yet we never came to an agreement. Curious."

"You're an idiot," Spencer says fondly.

"And you're a total wimp. Now chill the fuck out and kiss me." It's a little fucked up, but knowing that Brendon is at least worried about things, even if he won't show it, goes a long way to make Spencer feel better, even if it is dangerously close to sunset.

"How do you feel?" he asks after a few minutes, pulling back. The sun's just starting to set, and Spencer's on edge, his entire body tight and itchy.

"Nervous?" Brendon answers, biting at his swollen lips. "What do you mean?"

"Like, your skin," Spencer says. He tries desperately to remember if it had felt this way the first time, but most of those memories are nothing but hazy impressions of being completely and utterly terrified.

"It feels like skin?" Brendon tries.

"You're not, like, itchy and tight?" Spencer asks. "Or like there's something in your stomach that's trying to get out?" Brendon's eyes light up, and Spencer snaps, "Brendon, do not do the Alien chest burster thing right now, I swear to god."

"No," Brendon says. "I feel normal, just worried, and now a little disappointed because I do an awesome Alien chest burster."

"The very best," Spencer says, getting up from the bed and starting to pace again. "What about your bones? Are they aching?"

"No," Brendon says. "No, Spencer, I feel fine, but maybe you should--"

"Anything at all," Spencer asks desperately. His joints are starting to crack with every step he takes, his bones aching as they prepare to change. He knows that if Brendon was feeling the same thing, he would know, he'd be able to smell Brendon's distress, his pain. But all he can smell coming off of Brendon right now is worry and nerves. Spencer's body is telling him to run, to turn around and run out the door and out into the forest, but he can't. What if he's wrong and it's not like this the first time? He can't leave Brendon to go through this alone.

"Spencer," Brendon says, getting up with ease, his movements smooth and easy, not pained and jerky like Spencer's. "Spence, I think it's going to be-- is it time? Because I don't feel anything. I think it's going to be fine."

Spencer can feel his spine ripple as Brendon walks toward him, his skin stretching out tight, and when Brendon reaches for his hand, Spencer's knuckles and wrists start to pop, shifting, getting ready. Brendon startles a little, looking down at Spencer's hand with something like fascination as his bones press up and settle back down, and all of a sudden Spencer-- he can't. He can't be here, can't let Brendon see him like this.

"If anything happens," Spencer says, his voice strained and rough. "If we're wrong, and you change, you find me. You'll be able to smell me, I promise, and I won't go far, but I can't-- promise me."

"Spencer," Brendon says, as he heads toward the door. "Spencer, don't go. You don't have to do that."

"Promise," Spencer groans, his hand shaking on the door knob.

"Okay," Brendon says, hurriedly. "Okay, I promise, but Spencer--"

Spencer's out the door and down the stairs before Brendon's sentence is over, racing onto the patio and tossing himself over the rail. He lands shakily on his feet on the ground below before falling to his knees as his legs start to crack and reform. Spencer can see the window to their room from here, can see the curtain pull back, but he drags himself under the edge of the porch before he can see Brendon's face. He collapses onto the cold, rocky ground and tries his best not to scream.

-

Each time he changes, there's this weird moment where Spencer, as far as he can tell, just blacks out. It's this in-between time he doesn't think he'll ever get back, when he's not strictly human but he's not exactly a wolf yet. He comes to fully changed, recent enough that everything still hurts and he's still shaky in his body, still stumbles when he tries to stand up on two legs instead of four paws. This time, though, Spencer comes to halfway up the patio stairs, his back paws scrabbling at the back steps as he regains consciousness and his brain takes over. Spencer's confused and disoriented, more so than usual, but when he reaches the top of the stairs and takes a shaky step onto the patio, all of a sudden it's clear, entirely clear. Spencer focuses and sprints through the open door and up the staircase, bursting through the half-open door into his room. He lets out a low, relieved whine he sees Brendon sitting on the bed, looking at Spencer with wide, surprised eyes.

Brendon speaks, but Spencer can't really understand him. He hears his name, and he recognizes Brendon's voice, but all he can do is whine and whimper, so he pads forward and noses at Brendon's palm, sniffing at his arms and legs, making sure he's okay. Brendon pets his head tentatively and Spencer pushes up into it, crawling up onto the bed and settling himself across Brendon's legs. He recognizes Brendon's laughter, his scent, and Spencer makes a pleased, rumbling noise deep in his chest as he curls up at Brendon's feet.

-

When Spencer wakes up, he's curled up around Brendon's legs, his nose pressed into the back of Brendon's knee. He remembers vague, sporadic things from the night before - finding Brendon, following him down to the kitchen and eating what he seriously hopes was chili and not actual dog food, curling up behind Brendon's knees when he got into bed and falling asleep with Brendon's hand patting at his head - but mostly he just remembers relief. He sits up, groaning loudly at his stiff muscles and bones before freezing and remembering that Brendon's probably still asleep.

"Shit," Spencer swears, and his voice isn't as rough as it usually is. He thinks he probably didn't howl as much, but then Brendon's sitting up, stretching out on the bed next to Spencer.

"'M awake, idiot."

"Right. I knew that," Spencer mumbles, stretching out a little and winching when his joints pop and his bones shift in protest.

"So, hey, why do you stay down there all night anyway? I'd be okay if you wanted to, like, share a pillow with me up here. You're pretty fuzzy for a mutt."

Spencer shoots Brendon a glare and is mildly annoyed with himself for actually getting defensive. Brendon laughs, and Spencer ignores him as he crawls up the bed, sliding an arm around Brendon's waist. "I'm not a mutt. I'm a ferocious werewolf, asshole." He shoves his nose into the crook of Brendon's neck and lets Brendon's scent help him relax and forget about how his skin still feels weird, like it's too stretched and doesn't fit quite right.

"The worst you could do to me is slobber all over the pillow, and sometimes you do that anyway. I guess you could nuzzle me to death."

"I'll show you nuzzling to death," Spencer says, rubbing his nose over Brendon's collarbone, and Brendon laughs and turns around in Spencer's arms, kissing him on the mouth. Spencer kisses back until Brendon breaks the kiss to yawn, laughing as soon as he's finished.

"Oh god, sorry, sorry."

Spencer smiles, sliding his hand down to rub at Brendon's hip. "Okay, yeah, we should just go back to bed. C'mon, sleepy," Spencer says, reaching for the blankets, but Brendon sits up.

"No, no, I'm good! I think Ryan and Jon are attempting to make breakfast for us, anyway. There's no point going to sleep now. And hey," Brendon adds, moving the pillows around so he can settle himself behind Spencer, "wouldn't you rather have a back rub? I have magic hands, Spencer, you know this."

"You're ridiculous," Spencer says, moving forward on the bed, "and I love you. A back rub sounds amazing."

Brendon settles in close behind Spencer, using his thumbs to start pressing at the muscles of Spencer's shoulders, where he's most tense. Spencer drops his head forward and moans shamelessly, the hard pressure just what he needs right now.

"How long does the pain last?" Brendon asks, a little softer, and Spencer reaches back to touch Brendon's knee in what he hopes in a comforting gesture.

"Not long. After a few days I don't even feel it anymore."

"Why do you think I didn't change?" Brendon says after a minute or two, his voice oddly tight.

"I guess I would have to bite you as a wolf," Spencer says. "Which obviously shouldn't be a problem since my number one priority as a wolf seems to be cuddling."

"You're definitely the cuddliest werewolf I've ever met," Brendon says, his hands warm and strong on Spencer's back. He's quiet for a few minutes, just rubbing at Spencer's neck and back and shoulders until Spencer's drifting, warm and happy and pleasantly relaxed. "Are you disappointed I didn't change?" Brendon blurts out suddenly, and Spencer can't hide the way he goes tense everywhere under Brendon's hands. Brendon rests his hands on Spencer's shoulders and Spencer twists around, looking at the worried expression on Brendon's face.

"Brendon, what the actual fuck? Of course I'm not disappointed," Spencer says. "Why would I be?"

"I don't know," Brendon says, reaching up to rub at Spencer's neck until he has to turn his head back around. It's a sneaky move, but it also feels amazing enough that Spencer can't quite bring himself to protest. "I just thought maybe it would be easier for you if I was a werewolf too."

"Did we not already discuss this?" Spencer groans. "All we'd do is fuck, like, all the time, which would seriously hinder the whole paid touring musicians thing."

"Yeah, but, I don't know. What if you meet some exotic lady werewolf, like on Buffy, and you have an instant connection, and I'm just Willow in a fuzzy sweater and you drive away in your van and then I become a lesbian?"

"Yes," Spencer says. "Yes, that's exactly what will happen, so sorry."

"You know what I mean," Brendon says, frustration creeping into his voice. "What if you're supposed to be with another werewolf and you can't help it?"

"That's not how it works," Spencer says, his voice calm and gentle. He's pretty sure Brendon's actually upset; his hands have stopped rubbing and started just stroking over Spencer's skin, soft and shaky. "You're my mate, Brendon. I can't really-- it's hard to explain. I just know. It's why I came back. I couldn't help it. I had to stay with you."

"See?" Brendon says. "If I was a wolf too--"

"Yeah, no," Spencer says. "That's not. I like it like this. I like knowing you'll be here when I get back. I like having a reason to come back. Those first times I changed, it was just... running, you know? Running and trying to get away from things, not trying to get to something."

"That was almost deep," Brendon says, but he sounds a little more relaxed, his hands starting back up, rubbing at Spencer's shoulders.

"Fuck you," Spencer says sleepily, rolling his shoulders into Brendon's hands. "Besides, I could never leave you and your magic hands."

"We could have chased squirrels together," Brendon says sadly. "Finally gotten Ryan the friend he's always dreamed of."

"And end up writing a record full of squirrel soliloquies? I'll pass."

Brendon leans down over Spencer's back, pressing himself close and nosing through Spencer's hair so he can kiss Spencer's cheek, press his lips to the parts of Spencer's jaw he can get to under his beard. "You promise you'll never leave me for another sexy werewolf, and I'll keep my hands off of underage bag boys, okay?" he whispers into Spencer's ear.

"Deal," Spencer replies, turning his head and straining his neck up so he can meet Brendon's mouth. "But if I ever meet a sexy mermaid, we may have to renegotiate."

"Well, duh," Brendon says against his lips. "Sea-shell bra. We could probably work something out."

-

"We made breakfast," Ryan says as soon as Spencer steps into the kitchen. Jon shoots him a pointed look. "Jon made breakfast, and I helped."

"What'd you burn?" Spencer asks, automatically reaching behind himself and grabbing at Brendon's waist as he comes into the kitchen.

"Everything," Jon says. "Apparently I don't know how to make pancakes the way you like them, so Ryan had to do it himself. That was an hour and half a box of pancake mix ago."

"I poured the milk," Ryan says. "So fuck you."

"And a lovely job you did," Brendon says, voice serious.

"Don't think I don't know you're mocking me," Ryan says. "I know. I'm just being the bigger person."

"You have fun with that," Brendon says, grabbing a pancake off the top of the stack and dipping in into the center of the bowl of butter.

"Dude," Jon says. "Dude, communal."

"I'm not going to double dip," Brendon says around a mouthful of food. "See?" He dips the opposite end of his pancake into the butter next.

"Now what, genius?" Ryan says when Brendon takes a bite and has half the pancake left.

"Now I am going to double dip," Brendon explains, doing so obnoxiously slow.

"You're disgusting," Spencer says, dropping a kiss to the nape of Brendon's neck. "Now go find the syrup."

"Oh, fuck," Ryan says. "Syrup. That's what I forgot."

"I have to say," Jon tells Spencer as he puts a plate of eggs on the table, "watching you follow Brendon around like a very large puppy last night was, like, the highlight of my year."

"Oh, fuck you," Spencer groans. Of course Jon would have seen that. Spencer's never felt aggression toward Ryan or Jon when he was a wolf, and he's pretty sure he can't since he feels like they're part of his pack, but it makes him feel better regardless that there's no immediate worry of him hurting Ryan or Jon, at least.

"I was thinking," Jon continues, "that if you're going to be sticking close to home when you change now, we should invest in some tennis balls. You'd be so cute running down the hallway after them."

"I will stab you with this fork," Spencer says. "Don't think I won't."

"We could get you a collar," Ryan says, thumping the syrup down in the middle of the table and sitting down. "One with spikes, so you can look all tough."

"Actually, Spencer, speaking of collars--" Brendon says, and Spencer groans right along with Ryan and Jon.

"Stop talking immediately," Spencer tells Brendon.

"I was on this website with all this leather stuff--"

"I hate you," Ryan whines, getting up and walking out of the room with his plate of pancakes clutched to his chest.

-

"So," Brendon says later that day, tossing his phone onto the table and straddling Spencer on the love seat. "Shane would like you to know he's coming by tomorrow to film some stuff and would like to request that you let him know if you're likely to murder him."

"I know," Spencer says. "I heard you on the phone. Also, you did not heroically save me from near death, Brendon, you just stopped Ryan from falling on top of my kit when he tripped."

"Which would have killed you, because you would have gone into a violent rage and burst a blood vessel in your forehead and gotten a brain aneurysm and died."

"I take it back," Spencer says. "You're a true hero."

"Thought so," Brendon says, ducking down to kiss Spencer softly. "So, Shane. You okay with that?"

"Yes," Spencer says rolling his eyes. "How many times have I told you that last time was a result of special circumstances."

"Special circumstances like you being a jealous werewolf, which you still are."

"But it's not close to the moon this time," Spencer says. "I'm totally cool. I am completely chill and completely awesome, and I'm not going to murder Shane even a little."

"Personal growth," Brendon says happily, holding out his hand. "Dude, high five."

"This is what I've been saying," Spencer grumbles, but he smacks Brendon's hand anyway.


	12. Chapter Twelve

"Okay, so first of all," Shane says as he climbs out of his car and starts loading Jon down with camera bags, "I've been putting out ads on Craigslist for participants in my werewolf short film, and dude, you would not believe the weirdos out there. Some dude came to the house and he ate a pound of raw ground meat in front of me to prove he was a werewolf. And then he threw up on the floor."

"Dude," Brendon says sadly.

"I cleaned it up," Shane says. "And oh, hey, man," he moves in for a hug and then pulls back, shooting a glance at Spencer. "This cool?" he asks.

"Yes," Spencer says, entirely not annoyed even a little bit by everyone's reluctance to accept his new superior willpower. "I am secure in my relationship and confident in my self control."

"Dude," Jon says. "Is that, like, a mantra?"

"... Maybe a little," Spencer says. This is the last time he's listening to Ryan about anything, and he means it this time. "But whatever, it worked," Spencer says. "See? Shane is totally still alive."

"Which I appreciate, Foxy."

"Wait. What?" Spencer asks, confused.

"Teen Wolf," Shane says. "Michael J. Fox," like that completely explains it.

"You are not calling me Foxy," Spencer says, shooing Brendon away from the case with Shane's mobile rig and lifting it easily.

"But--" Brendon says.

"No," Spencer repeats sternly. "No one is calling me Foxy."

-

"Foxy Smith," Ryan says later as he takes a hit from the pipe Jon just packed for him, "would make an amazing porn name."

"Oh come on, who fucking told him?" Spencer groans, staring down at Brendon accusingly where Brendon's sitting against the bottom of the love seat between Spencer's knees. They're all taking a break to relax before they actually have to show Shane their material, because everyone but Ryan knows the wolf musical is shit. They're just postponing the inevitable, but Spencer is fine with that.

"Oops?" Shane says.

"I am seriously rethinking my stance on not murdering you," Spencer growls.

"I'm just saying," Ryan continues, waving the pipe around and sprinkling ashes all over himself. "If you're ever in a bind, you could make some fast money."

"Yeah," Jon says, taking the pipe out of Ryan's hand. "You're done."

"Great idea," Spencer says. "I'll go the whole route. Grow a pornstache, start wearing gold chains, inexplicably oil myself up."

"I could be into that last one," Brendon says, looking up at Spencer and grinning.

"Gross," Ryan says. "Oil is gross. One time when Spencer was little--"

"Do not tell this story," Spencer snaps.

"He poured oil on a garbage bag and skidded down a hill and ran into a tree."

"We were making a slip and slide," Spencer tries to explain. "Which was Ryan's idea in the first place."

"His legs just went straight up in the air!" Ryan says, laughing loudly. "And he had on these octopus swim trunks--"

"Oh, sweet," Shane pipes up.

"--and so it was like. An octopus. With legs. Which would freak me out."

"Well, yeah," Jon agrees. "By definition, octopi don't have legs."

"You know what I never understood about octopuses?" Ryan says. "How their little suckers don't stick to everything. Like, ploop ploop ploop," he says, demonstrating by pinching at Jon's face.

"Okay, you're going to stop that right now," Jon says.

"Like, why don't you just see thousands of octopuses, stuck to rocks and piers and stuff? Just clinging. All alone. That's sad."

"That's not how suction cups work," Brendon says.

"Once, when we were little," Ryan continues, "Spencer got a suction cup stuck to his nipple."

"Oh my god," Brendon says. "Oh my god, I have got to stop totally ignoring you when you're high, Ross, this is amazing."

"How does that even happen?" Jon asks with wide eyes.

Fuck Shane. Spencer might just murder everyone.

-

"Ryan," Brendon says when he slips into their room later that night, "is currently trying to play his guitar with a fork."

"How much more pot did he smoke?" Spencer asks blearily. He's been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying his very best not to be completely irrational. He can sleep without Brendon, it's just that he wasn't tired. The fact that he could hear Brendon downstairs giggling with Shane had nothing to do with it, and Spencer is really proud of the fact that that's only a little bit of a lie.

"It's an 'experiment in sound' apparently," Brendon says, falling heavily onto the bed. "It was kind of funny at first, but he's going to fuck up his strings and I'll have to restring it for him tomorrow, and that was before he suggested a steak knife."

"Jesus," Spencer groans.

"Yeah," Brendon says, getting up to strip his pants and shirt off before crawling back into bed and pressing himself down on top of Spencer, rocking forward so Spencer can feel that he's hard. "I had better things to do."

"Why did you even bother keeping your underwear on?" Spencer asks, genuinely curious as he grabs at Brendon's ass and presses him closer.

"Because I'm a gentleman," Brendon says, grinning down at Spencer.

"Yes, I could tell from the way you're rubbing your dick all over me right now," Spencer says, but he squeezes where his hands are holding Brendon's ass, arching his hips up a little so their cocks press together.

"Whatever, you like it," Brendon mumbles, his voice trailing off into a groan when Spencer slides his hands down the back of Brendon's underwear, squeezing at his skin.

"Yeah," Spencer replies, shoving Brendon's underwear down to his thighs, freeing his cock. "Yeah, I do."

Brendon doesn't even bother to move to take his underwear off the rest of the way. He just grinds down against Spencer, their cocks sliding together, a little wet already with Brendon's pre-come.

"What were you thinking about that you're already so close?" Spencer asks, his voice low, and it's not teasing. The dark, possessive part of him wants to know, wants to make sure Brendon was thinking of him. Brendon whines, tucking his face into Spencer's neck and mouthing at the skin, his hips pressing down in fast, jerky movements. The smell of his arousal gets stronger and stronger, and Spencer presses down harder on Brendon's ass, shifting underneath him to help with the friction.

"You. Sex. This, fuck, Spencer," Brendon moans, dragging his teeth over Spencer's collarbone. Spencer grunts and thrusts up harder, letting out a low, pleased noise.

"Good," he says, the heat twisting in his stomach whenever Brendon's cock is pressed close. It's not even the friction so much as it is the way Brendon's moving, sleepy and desperate and whining high in his throat. And knowing that Brendon was downstairs thinking about Spencer, about this, is a lot hotter than it should be.

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon," Spencer groans, and then Brendon's letting out a low moan and coming, hot and wet all over Spencer's cock, between their stomachs. Spencer doesn't stop shifting with Brendon or pressing Brendon down with the hands gripping his ass, and Brendon's whines are just starting to sound like it's too much when Spencer comes, rubbing slowly up with Brendon. He doesn't know where it comes from, but he's saying, "Mine, mine," when Brendon leans up to kiss him, fast and messy, their hips still shifting a little even as Brendon's cock goes soft.

"Yours," Brendon says breathlessly against his mouth. "Fuck, it did not take long for you to stockholm me into liking that."

"I know," Spencer says, pulling Brendon closer and nosing at his neck. "It's like a superpower."

"You have enough of those," Brendon says sleepily, shifting around on top of Spencer until he manages to get his underwear kicked off, only digging his elbows and knees into Spencer a little bit in the process.

"But that one's the most fun," Spencer says. "Maybe I can convince Ryan to cluck like a chicken every time he hears a certain word."

"Don't think it works like that," Brendon says, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders and shifting until he's comfortable. "But we should totally take him to one of those hypnotists you see on TV."

"I don't know if those are real," Spencer says, starting to get sleepy himself now that Brendon is warm and heavy on top of him.

"I'll google it," Brendon says around a yawn. "Later. Sleeping is for now."

"Very astute," Spencer whispers in his ear, kissing Brendon's temple and nosing into his hair, breathing Brendon in before pulling away and settling in against the pillows.

-

Brendon and Spencer promised to make breakfast for everyone the next day, but Brendon is apparently firmly against leaving the bed. Or actually opening his eyes.

"Hey, Brendon, come on," Spencer says softly, leaning down to kiss the back of Brendon's shoulder and rub his hand in slow circles over Brendon's back. Brendon's breathing is still even and soft, his eyes firmly shut while he sleeps through Spencer's attempts to wake him up. Spencer resorts to desperate measures, but Brendon really has only himself to blame.

Spencer pulls down the covers and pushes Brendon over onto his back, rolling his eyes at how easy Brendon is to move while he's asleep. It just makes it easier, though, for Spencer to spread Brendon's legs apart, taking a moment to trail his hands over the goosebumps that form on Brendon's skin from the cool air of the room. He leans in and kisses at the inside of Brendon's thigh, glancing up in case Brendon stirs, but Brendon's breathing is still steady, his eyes closed and head tilted to the side on the pillow.

Brendon's cock is only half-hard when Spencer holds the base and swallows around the rest, the skin soft and a little bitter with the taste of come from the night before. Spencer sucks harder, his free hand coming up to cup Brendon's hip as Brendon's cock starts to swell in his mouth, filling up and getting stiffer. Only then does Brendon make a soft noise, shifting his hips a little underneath Spencer.

Spencer's swallowing faster now, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head now that Brendon's hard and his cock is a warm weight on Spencer's tongue. Brendon makes a strangled moaning noise as he sits up suddenly, his hand grabbing blindly at Spencer's hair.

"What are you--"

"You wouldn't wake up," Spencer says when he pulls off Brendon's cock, his voice hoarse. He uses his hand to jerk Brendon a few times, and Brendon groans, lying back down.

"Shit. Shit, this is so much better than an alarm clock. How long--"

"For two hours, shut up." Spencer takes Brendon back into his mouth, already tasting pre-come when his tongue brushes over Brendon's slit. Brendon's hand is still resting in Spencer's hair, and Spencer kind of wishes Brendon would pull already, like he knows they both want.

"You have not been sucking my dick for two hou--"

Spencer lets his teeth graze just underneath the swollen head of Brendon's cock, and Brendon hisses and finally shuts up, slumping back against the pillows and tugging at Spencer's hair.

Spencer lets out a low noise in his throat as Brendon tugs, the little spikes of pain going straight to his cock, and it's not long at all before Brendon's rocking his hips up, trying to press deeper into Spencer's mouth.

"Spencer," he gasps, "fuck, maybe you were telling the truth, I'm--"

"I know, come on," Spencer says, pulling off of Brendon's cock and stroking at him. "We have like fifteen minutes to shower and go start breakfast."

"Are you seriously putting me on a time schedule right now?" Brendon asks, his hands pulling desperately at Spencer's hair.

"You still have to get me off in the shower," Spencer says. "I'm just being practical." Spencer leans back down to suck the head of Brendon's cock in, and Brendon comes with a noise that's half moan and half laugh, hot and sudden in Spencer's mouth.

-

Ryan has been weird and twitchy all day, manically insistent on playing some stuff for Shane as soon as possible. Spencer doesn't know when he went from actively avoiding letting Shane hear their stuff to trying to force it on him, but it makes Spencer's stomach coil up nervously. He's seen Ryan in these kinds of moods, and nothing good ever comes from it. Which is why he's not entirely surprised when Ryan finally cracks a few hours later, but he is a little surprised at how Ryan does it.

Spencer literally left the room for five minutes to go pay the pizza guy, so he isn't exactly sure how Ryan ended up on his back on the floor, hitting his guitar strings with one of Spencer's drumsticks. But there he is. And Shane is filming it, while Brendon is laughing hysterically on the floor next to Ryan.

"They've lost their goddamn minds," Jon explains carefully, plucking at the guitar in his lap. He's a safe distance away from the chaos, and Spencer walks over to him, careful not to trip over some water bottles. Their practice room is kind of a mess, and Spencer's really tempted to go grab his drumstick out of Ryan's hands before more damage is done. And maybe yank Brendon's jeans up, because they're sliding down his ass and Shane is filming, for fuck's sake. But Spencer controls himself and turns to Jon instead.

"What the fuck? Did they take something?" Ryan gets up and drops his guitar to the floor, and Spencer winces when it falls. Jon makes a sad noise but keeps talking over the sound of Brendon wailing one of their songs. Really, really badly. It doesn't help when Ryan starts pounding the neck of the guitar on the pedals all lined up in front of the speakers.

"Nope. Ryan is apparently reinventing sound, but as far as I can tell he's sober as fuck. Shit, Ryan, hey! Leave that guitar alone!" Jon calls across the room, but Ryan isn't listening and Shane is crouched down next to Brendon, filming all of it. The guitar makes a crunching noise when Ryan kicks it into the wall and Spencer flinches, going to protect his drum kit. And maybe pull up Brendon's pants while he's at it.

-

Ryan does not, in fact, leave that guitar alone. He "burns it alive" out back half an hour later, and they all watch as the shiny red coat of paint on the body blackens and peels away, the flames licking at the neck of the guitar as it burns up slowly. Well, all of them except Jon, who didn't want to take part in the murder of an innocent instrument. It's understandable - Ryan is seriously out of his mind, and Spencer pulls him aside when they're back in the studio and Shane is messing with his camera equipment.

"Okay, so what the actual fuck?" Spencer asks, because he isn't sure how he left Ryan and Brendon on the floor acting like assholes and came back to Ryan squirting lighter fluid on his guitar. He had been gone for like three minutes to grab more beer from the fridge, but apparently they were three eventful fucking minutes.

"It's the end of the electric guitar era, Spence," Ryan says seriously.

"Yeah, that's not what I mean and you know it. Talk." Spencer crosses his arms, waiting. He knows Ryan will tell him eventually.

"We played the demos we had so far for Shane and decided to scrap the entire album," Ryan says evenly, and Spencer feels a sudden, brief swell of pride at the fact Ryan was able to push his own ego aside enough to admit that. Even if he did burn a perfectly good guitar in the process.

"Ryan--"

"I want to start over," Ryan says, looking down instead of meeting Spencer's eyes. His fingers are still smudged black from pulling the remains of the guitar out of the fire. "I want to do this right. With all of us."

Spencer wants to move forward and hug Ryan, but Ryan still looks a little jittery, like he's not sure if this is what he really wants. It's a start, though, and Spencer's thankful for that. "I was against a wolf musical from the start, anyway," Spencer says, bumping his shoulder into Ryan's and smiling at him. Then he wanders over to where Brendon's watching the Death of the Guitar playback on Shane's laptop.

-

Spencer can't sleep, mainly because there is either an extremely large nocturnal bird on the roof or Ryan is up there moping. Either way, whatever it is keeps moving back and forth, and Spencer rolls Brendon off of his chest with a kiss to his temple before sliding out of bed and yanking on some pants. He tiptoes past the sad, closet-sized guest room Shane is sleeping in and manages to haul himself onto the roof without interrupting Shane's snoring. He's busy mentally patting himself on the back when a strange clicking growl starts up from the darkness.

"I know it's you, Ryan. I can smell you and you've been making that same weird-ass noise since we were, like, twelve."

"It was scary then and it's scary now," Ryan says, moving out of the shadows.

"Sure it was," Spencer says. "You know you're not supposed to be up here alone."

"Oh, fuck off," Ryan says. "Jon was exaggerating. I did not almost fall off, I just slipped a little. It was completely under control."

"I heard you scream from the kitchen when it happened," Spencer reminds him. "Just saying."

"It was completely under control," Ryan repeats, and he waits all of three seconds after Spencer's settled down on top of the roof to press himself into Spencer's side. "I liked that guitar," he says after a few minutes. "But it was ruining everything."

Spencer laughs, loud and sudden. "Well," he says, "the good news is, now you've destroyed it."

"Yeah. I'm probably going to regret that later."

Spencer turns to look at Ryan's face in the dark. "That is honestly something I never thought I'd hear you say."

"Whatever." Ryan shivers, and Spencer throws his arm around Ryan, pulling him in closer to his side. "It had to be done. Things are going to be better this way. I mean, it wasn't working, right?" Ryan asks quietly.

"It really, really was not," Spencer tells him gently.

"Does everyone think I'm crazy?"

"We already did," Spencer says. "How did you not know that?"

"I'm serious," Ryan says, picking his head up from Spencer's shoulder and staring at him unnervingly. "I know it wasn't perfect from the start, but it was important, because--" Ryan stops abruptly, cutting his eyes to the side.

"I get it," Spencer says quietly, looking out over the moonlit forest. "I had a minor nervous breakdown and fell in love, you had a minor nervous breakdown and wrote a wolf musical and then had another minor nervous breakdown. You just like to show me up."

"I don't know," Ryan says, relaxing under Spencer's arm and dropping his head back down to Spencer's shoulder. "You did try to kill Shane and you almost turned Brendon into a werewolf. That's way more dramatic than setting a guitar on fire."

"That's subjective," Spencer replies, smiling to himself when Ryan finally laughs.

-

Spencer finds Ryan outside the next day, poking at the ashes of his burned guitar with his bare toes. "Already regretting it?"

"Yep," Ryan says.

Spencer laughs and tugs at Ryan's wrist. "C'mon, Shane's leaving," he says. "We're paying him off in beer so he doesn't sell the footage of your mental breakdown to the paparazzi."

"I'd be more worried about him splicing together all your gross PDA with Brendon and selling a sex tape," Ryan grumbles, slipping Jon's flip-flops back on before they head inside.

"Oh, whatever," Spencer says. "We're not that bad."

"He has Brendon grabbing your crotch on tape, dude. I know because we all watched it and made fun of you the other night."

"Oh," Spencer says, blushing a little. "Oops?"

"Just get it out of your system before we start touring again," Ryan says. "If there's a sex scandal about this band, I want it to be about me."

"Wow," Spencer says as he holds open the door. "That's a pretty lofty goal."

"I'm not like planning it or anything," Ryan assures him, heading for the kitchen. "I'm just saying, if it happens, it's not like I'd be that embarrassed."

"Embarrassed about what?" Shane asks from the table where he's playing footage back for Jon and Brendon.

"His dick," Spencer says, flopping down in the chair next to Brendon and nuzzling into his neck.

"See?" Ryan says. "See what I'm saying about the PDA?"

"Wait," Jon says, "are we talking about Brendon and Spencer's gross PDA or Ryan's gross dick?"

"Hey," Ryan says. "My dick is not gross."

"You're right," Jon says. "It's a delicate, blooming flower."

"Yeah," Shane says, closing his laptop and pushing back his chair. "I should go start packing up. You guys talk about each other's dicks way too much."

"I know you think it's my fault," Brendon calls down the hallway after him, "but Jon is a surprisingly homoerotic presence in this band!"

-

Ryan pushes for picking up and leaving almost as soon as Shane's gone, but Jon convinces him to chill out for a few days and let them breathe. It also gives Jon time to plan a truly epic feast of all the meat they have left in the fridge and time to get them all thoroughly stoned, so Spencer is not complaining.

He is not complaining at all, really, because Brendon's got his head in Spencer's lap, letting Spencer pet his hair and rub at the back of his neck. Everything feels weird, like his fingertips aren't properly connected, and Spencer realizes distantly that this is the first time he's been well and truly high since he was turned. Pot and alcohol don't seem to hit him as strongly anymore, and whereas Spencer used to get pretty stoned off half a joint, it apparently now takes almost two shared with Brendon before he starts to feel it.

It's strange, though, and Spencer starts wondering if maybe his hands have always worked like this, and he just hadn't noticed. Maybe all his other enhanced senses made him totally ignore that he has, like, super touch too. Maybe Brendon's skin was always electrified and Spencer just never noticed.

"What are you thinking?" Brendon asks, and Spencer realizes that he's just staring down at Brendon, trailing his fingers up and down the side of Brendon's cheek.

"You're pretty," Spencer says, because it's the first thing that comes to mind.

"You're high," Brendon replies with a giggle.

"I miss my cats," Jon says from his recliner. "What if they don't remember me?"

"What if they formed a cat army while you were gone and they're just, like, waiting. Waiting to capture you?" Ryan asks.

"I-- why would they do that?" Jon asks, sounding genuinely stricken. "I'm nice. I get them toys."

"You can't trust cats," Ryan says. "I'm just saying, be careful."

"My cats love me," Jon says. "They love me."

"I want to sleep in my own bed," Ryan says, sitting up and then lying back down. "Like. This floor is not my bed."

"I'm kind of scared Shane is using my room at home to store cameras," Brendon says. "He has a lot of them."

"I can feel everything," Spencer says, wiggling his fingers in the air. But oh, hey, wait. Brendon's statement is just starting to cut through the fog in his brain. His bed, Brendon's bed, at Brendon's place, which is also Shane's place, but it is definitely not Spencer's place.

"I don't own your home," Spencer tells Brendon sadly. Brendon just pats at Spencer's arm, and Spencer is pretty sure Brendon's too stoned to understand how bad this is. Spencer can't be without Brendon for that long. Well, maybe he can, but he doesn't want to, dammit.

"Do you think I have enough money to buy your house?" Spencer wonders out loud. "Maybe if Shane gave me a discount."

"I... what?" Brendon asks. "You are stoned."

"You're a homeowner," Spencer says desperately.

"I think it's time to go upstairs," Brendon says, and Spencer's about to argue until he catches sight of Brendon's eyes, dark and shining, and, well. Yes please.

"Upstairs," Spencer repeats, letting Brendon tug him to his feet. "Okay."

-

Spencer means to find his words and have an actual talk with Brendon, he really, really does, but then Brendon has to go and walk up the stairs in front of him, and seriously, Brendon's ass. By the time Brendon opens the door to their room, Spencer's focus has mostly narrowed to getting his hands on Brendon, and he kicks the door shut behind him and half hugs, half tackles Brendon onto the bed.

"Okay," Brendon says, his legs still mostly hanging off the bed while Spencer sniffs under his ear. "Sure."

"Awesome," Spencer says, pushing his hands up under Brendon's shirt, and seriously, his hands. It's like he can feel every hair on Brendon's body brushing against his palms, can feel the blood pumping under Brendon's skin. It's kind of creepy, but mostly hot, and Spencer grabs Brendon by the waist and hauls him the rest of the way onto the bed, bending back down to trail his nose from Brendon's ear to his throat, just taking in his scent. It's different when Brendon's high, a little sweeter and a lot earthier, and it kind of drives Spencer crazy. He can't decide what to focus on: the way Brendon feels or the way he smells.

"Your skin is like one of those things," Spencer says into Brendon's throat. "One of those big balls of electricity that makes your hair stand up."

"I-- thanks?" Brendon says, tugging at Spencer's shoulder. "Spencer hey, hey, come here," he says, trying to pull Spencer up closer to his mouth. Which hey, yes, kissing, awesome, but Spencer has found this one spot right in the dip of Brendon's collarbone where he can smell everything, and feel Brendon's heart beat, and he kind of wants to just, like, live there.

"Your head is heavy like a rock," Brendon mumbles, holding Spencer's face with both hands and tilting his head so they can kiss. Spencer tries to struggle for a second, tries to get back to Brendon's neck, before he realizes, oh, hey, kissing.

Brendon's lips feel fucking amazing, and Spencer is a fan of kissing in the first place. He can't count how many times he's come just from kissing Brendon in the past two months, but this, this is, like, insane. Brendon's lips are sending little trails of electricity all through Spencer's body every time they move, and when Brendon sucks on his bottom lip a little, Spencer gasps and grinds down so hard against Brendon that Brendon whimpers a little.

"Sorry, sorry, shit," Spencer says, pulling back with a gasp. "It was like you were sucking my dick, Brendon, shit," Spencer says, leaning back in and trying to get back at Brendon's mouth.

"Hey, hey," Brendon says, pushing at his shoulder. "Come on, on your back," and yeah, that's a plan, he can do that. Spencer grabs a hold of Brendon and flips them, settling Brendon back down on top of him with a yelp. "That is even weirder when I'm really high," Brendon says before moving back down.

Spencer doesn't even give Brendon time to get there, leaning up to meet Brendon's mouth halfway, and he groans against Brendon's lips because seriously, damn. Brendon kisses him light and shallow for a few minutes, and Spencer distantly registers that Brendon's doing it on purpose, but fuck if he cares right now because it still feels amazing. He keeps rolling his hips up against Brendon's thigh, liking the way it makes his whole stomach tingle, and he's not expecting it when Brendon sucks his lip back in, hard, and scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin.

Spencer shouts as his hips buck up, and he's pretty sure he would have knocked Brendon off of him if he hadn't had a firm grip on Brendon's waist. Brendon keeps sucking and then bites down, and Spencer comes with a groan, hot and sudden against Brendon's thigh.

"Fuck," Brendon says, pulling back and licking his lips. "That's still so fucking hot." Spencer nods kind of dazedly and reaches up, running his thumb along Brendon's swollen bottom lip. Brendon shivers a little and pushes forward with his hips as he sucks Spencer's thumb in, and Spencer is so close to coming again that he's a little dizzy with it.

Brendon leans down and sucks at Spencer's fingers until Spencer raises them up and pushes them past Brendon's lips. Spencer's cock jerks at the look in Brendon's eyes, dark and heated, and Spencer growls low in his throat as Brendon sucks his fingers and licks over them, getting them wet. Spencer can smell how turned on Brendon's getting, his scent hotter and stronger all of a sudden as Brendon closes his eyes and groans a little around Spencer's fingers.

"Sex," Spencer gasps out when Brendon nips at the pad of his pointer finger. "Sex now."

Brendon laughs around his fingers, which is fucking weird but also weirdly hot, the way his mouth stretches even further around Spencer's fingers and his laughter vibrates against them. Brendon grabs Spencer's wrist and pushes, letting go of his fingers with a wet pop that goes straight to Spencer's dick. "You Spencer, you do sex now?" Brendon says in an exaggerated caveman voice.

"Yes," Spencer says, not even caring that Brendon's making fun of him. "Yes, let's do sex now, fuck," Spencer whines, and Brendon laughs, loud and bright. Spencer pulls at the hem of Brendon's shirt, and Brendon swats at his hand, pulling back.

"No," he says firmly. "I like this shirt and you are not ripping it."

"That was an accident," Spencer says, wiggling around until he can yank his own shirt off.

"All five times?" Brendon asks, his head still trapped in his shirt. "Because the first time it was kind of cute, but now I'm down to like four shirts." Brendon's hair is everywhere as he yanks his shirt over his head, and Spencer leans forward and grabs at it, pulling Brendon's head back down to kiss him again. "Hey," Brendon says against his lips after a minute or two when Spencer starts rubbing himself against Brendon's hip. "Pants are kind of in the way when it comes to sex."

"Pants suck," Spencer says, fumbling with Brendon's fly. "I agree. Let's never wear them again."

Brendon laughs and pulls back, shifting off of Spencer's lap so he can pull his pants down his legs. "Come on," he says, rolling his eyes at Spencer.

"Oh, right," Spencer says, pushing his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. He had maybe gotten a little distracted watching Brendon take his pants off. It's not his fault. He's still pretty high. And hard, which he's reminded of when Brendon shifts back on top of Spencer and rubs his thigh between Spencer's legs. Spencer can feel where his skin is still sticky with come, and he reaches down, gripping Brendon's hips to keep him still when Spencer leans up and sniffs at his neck.

"What's so awesome about my neck? Are you sure you're not a vampire?" Brendon asks quietly, his breath hitching when Spencer kisses right underneath Brendon's ear.

"Mine," Spencer says in a low voice, thrusting up a little so his cock slides against Brendon's ass.

"Yours," Brendon says, shifting his hips down against Spencer's. "Spence, come on, come on." Brendon's voice is strained and his face is flushed and Spencer can smell his desperation, smell how badly he wants this.

"Stay," Spencer says, pressing one last deep kiss to Brendon's lips before sliding out from under Brendon and shuffling on his knees to the end of the bed.

Spencer had every intention of jerking off so he could get Brendon wet, but when he sees Brendon spread out in front of him, his back arched and his ass in the air, Spencer can't help it when he leans down and holds Brendon open, licking over him. Brendon gasps and bucks forward, and Spencer grips tightly at Brendon's ass, squeezing until he stills. He wasn't planning on doing more than licking over Brendon a few times, listening to the little whining gasps Brendon always makes, but it feels so different this time. Spencer gets distracted with it, running the very tip of his tongue along Brendon's rim for a while and feeling Brendon shiver. The tip of his tongue feels hot and oversensitive where he licks at Brendon, and he switches to broad strokes of his tongue, his own hips jerking forward this time at the feel of his tongue dragging over Brendon. It's like it shoots straight to his cock and wow, wow, they are definitely going to be having sex every time they get stoned out of their minds from now on.

Brendon starts to wiggle, to push back against Spencer's tongue. "Spencer, Spencer," he gasps, "come on, please fuck me already, christ."

It's tempting to keep on going, keep shifting his hips with the drag of his tongue, but fucking Brendon sounds like a really good idea right now, so Spencer makes himself pull back from Brendon and sit back up on his knees. Spencer shifts forward and takes hold of his cock, rubbing the head over Brendon's hole where he's still wet from Spencer's mouth. Brendon tries to push back and Spencer grabs onto Brendon's hip with his free hand, keeping him still.

"Spence, what?" Brendon asks, raising his head up and looking over his shoulder at Spencer with wide, desperate eyes.

"Almost," Spencer says as he starts to move his hand in earnest, holding the head of his cock to Brendon's hole as he jerks himself off fast and rough. It really doesn't take much; all Spencer has to do is breathe in deep and get Brendon's scent, focus and listen to his heartbeat, the tiny pants he's letting out, and Spencer's coming. Brendon lets out a strangled whimper as Spencer's come drips down his ass, and Spencer slides his fingers down, running them over Brendon's balls to catch the come there before sliding them inside of Brendon. Brendon groans and clenches down around Spencer almost immediately, trying to draw his fingers in deeper.

Spencer lets Brendon squeeze around him for a few moments as he rubs, pressing his come deeper inside of Brendon, getting him wet. Spencer pulls his fingers out slowly, pushing more come in when he thrusts them back inside. Brendon's thighs are shaking, and Spencer can smell him everywhere - the pre-come dripping from his cock, the sweat springing up on his forehead, the constant, thick smell of his arousal. Spencer takes his fingers back out, sliding them over his cock and getting himself slick before pressing the head of his cock back to Brendon's hole. He goes slow, just pushing the head in at first, watching the way Brendon spreads around him, how the head of his cock stretches Brendon open when he pulls back out. Spencer groans when he sees his own come clinging to the head of his cock and shining wetly around Brendon's rim, and he presses back against Brendon's hole, watching the way Brendon tries to push back, the way he clenches from wanting Spencer inside.

Spencer shakes his head a little, trying to snap himself out of it, but he can't quite pull his eyes away as he pushes back in, deeper this time, just watching his cock slide in and out of Brendon. Brendon keeps squirming impatiently, but Spencer can't help it, he's facinated by the way Brendon clings to his cock. Spencer reaches down to touch, his fingers sliding wetly over Brendon's rim, and Brendon groans. "Spencer," he says. "Come on."

Spencer's going to stop teasing and actually fuck Brendon, he absolutely is, just as soon as it stops feeling so good to press his fingers down and feel his cock moving in and out of Brendon through the stretched skin. He keeps rubbing, his thrusts getting faster the better it feels, and before he even realizes what he's doing, Spencer is pressing his finger in alongside his cock, groaning at how it feels. "Fuck," Brendon gasps, his hips jerking forward. "Spencer, fuck."

"Hurts?" Spencer asks, forcing himself to still his hips. Brendon is so tight around him, tight and slick from Spencer's come.

"No, just--" Brendon groans, clenching down around Spencer's cock, around his finger, and then he's pushing back, hard, until his ass is pressed in close against Spencer's hips. Spencer slides his finger out slowly, letting it drag inside Brendon, and Brendon hisses, says, "Wait, no, I want-- Spencer, please."

Spencer brings his two fingers up to his mouth and sucks them in quickly, tasting Brendon and his come. He makes sure his fingers are wet before pressing them back in, alongside his cock, and Brendon cries out, squeezing down so hard it's almost painful.

"Brendon," Spencer grits out, his voice gone low and rough. "You're so tight, taking so much." Spencer stares as he starts to work his fingers in and out with his cock, listening to Brendon's hitched breaths and trying not to come again.

"Trust me," Brendon groans, "I know, fuck." Brendon drops his head, pushing back as much as he can and just clenching down around Spencer, tight and hot and incredible. Spencer groans at the feeling and squeezes at Brendon's hip with his free hand, but he lets him keep rocking back, watches as Brendon speeds up and loses his rhythm, already so close just from rocking back against Spencer's cock and the stretch of his fingers. Brendon presses back even closer, still clenching around Spencer, trying to pull him deeper when there's no deeper to go. Brendon makes a frustrated noise as he keeps rocking back and hooks his ankles around Spencer's thighs, still trying to pull him closer.

Spencer slides his fingers out of Brendon's body and grabs onto Brendon's waist as he gasps at the loss. Spencer leans in close, pushing them to the bed and trying to press closer, even just a little. He leans down, pressing himself along Brendon's back, and Brendon cries out sharply as the angle changes and he goes impossibly tighter around Spencer's cock as he comes, before Spencer can even get a hand around him. Spencer stays deep inside, holding Brendon's hips as he comes, listening to the broken noises that tear themselves out of Brendon's throat. Brendon keeps pressing back, rocking through his orgasm. As soon as he stops clenching around Spencer, he falls to his elbows on the bed, and Spencer pulls out and presses the head of his cock where Brendon's swollen and open. Spencer comes wet over Brendon's hole and watches intently as most of it goes inside, a little catching at Brendon's rim and sliding down.

Brendon whimpers and collapses forward on the bed, and Spencer slides down Brendon's body, holding him open and licking fast, tasting himself still warm inside of Brendon. Spencer's tongue slides in easily and Brendon shivers as Spencer licks inside before pulling back to lick carefully over Brendon's rim, where he's still open and a little swollen up.

Spencer gets distracted for a minute, licking slowly over Brendon's rim and watching the way Brendon clenches, but then Brendon's babbling Spencer's name and shifting his hips forward, shifting away. Spencer licks a wet stripe down the back of Brendon's balls, reaching beneath Brendon to pull his cock back so he can sink his mouth over the tip, still wet with Brendon's come. Brendon shivers, and Spencer can tell he's overwhelmed, even more sensitive than usual after coming untouched.

Spencer opens his mouth wider and lifts up on Brendon's hips, holding Brendon up so he can suck the head in gently, cleaning Brendon up, listening to Brendon's quiet whimpers and feeling his toes curl up hard in the sheets. Brendon holds out for longer than Spencer thought he could, makes it until his cock is soft and twitching in Spencer's mouth before Brendon's body finally gives despite Spencer's support and he falls down onto the sheets.

Spencer presses a kiss to the small of Brendon's back before moving up the bed to settle in next to Brendon. Brendon turns over gingerly to give Spencer room, groaning as he does. Spencer strokes his hand up and down Brendon's back, grinning widely as he pulls Brendon close. He can't tell if he's still high or just really, really stupid from his orgasm, but he's pretty sure it's a combination of both.

"Oh my god," Brendon pants out, his voice hoarse. "You broke my ass. I have to sit in a car for hours tomorrow, why did I let this happen?" Brendon groans, dropping his head to Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer's chest clenches up as it all comes flooding back to him, that this is their last night here, that they're leaving tomorrow, leaving to go to separate houses. Spencer should just say something, he knows he should, but instead he catches Brendon's hand, kissing at Brendon's wrist and letting his lips linger, feeling Brendon's pulse beat against his skin. "Love you," Spencer whispers, dropping Brendon's hand and scooting down until he's face to face with Brendon. "Love you," Spencer says again, fiercely, pressing kisses to Brendon's sweaty forehead, his eyelids, the corner of his jaw.

"Hey, shh," Brendon says, squirming closer gingerly and pulling Spencer in, tilting his head back so Spencer can bury his face in the crook of Brendon's neck. "I love you too," Brendon says, petting at Spencer's hair, dragging his fingers over the spot just behind Spencer's ear that always seems to calm him down. "I'm going to love you even more when you carry me to the shower and hold me up," Brendon says, poking at Spencer's shin with his toes. "Because I don't know if my legs work, but there is no way I'm sitting on a sore ass for four hours in a car with Ryan tomorrow, still smelling like come."

Spencer squeezes Brendon tighter for just a second, breathing in deep, before pulling back and forcing a smile. "Just this once," he says, hoping he can blame the slight shake in his voice on the really awesome sex. "I don't want you getting lazy."

"Onward, noble steed," Brendon says sleepily, holding his arms out for Spencer.

-

Spencer wakes up to Brendon shoving t-shirts into his suitcase. "We need to leave soon," Brendon says as he tosses the clothing of Spencer's he finds onto the foot of Spencer's bed. "You know how Ryan drives."

Spencer nods, watching the way Brendon moves a little stiffly, and winces when he bends over to grab clothes off the floor. He can't make himself move. He's just frozen, watching Brendon pack and feeling a little sick. He needs to-- they're-- Brendon's his mate, and Spencer had become so secure in that knowledge that he'd never thought to wonder what would happen when they left the cabin. He and Brendon don't share a room outside of the cabin. In fact, they live a good 20 or 30 minutes away from each other, and Spencer's stomach clenches and rolls sickly when he thinks about waking up every morning without even being able to smell Brendon, much less pull him close and nuzzle into his neck.

Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something that doesn't sound completely insane, but Brendon just tosses a pair of his boxers at him and drops a kiss on Spencer's forehead. "I'm going downstairs before Ryan eats the last of the Pop-Tarts," he says. "If you shove the rest of this shit into our suitcases, I might even save you one."

Spencer nods blankly, still frozen on the bed for a few minutes after Brendon leaves. He should have realized. Brendon has his own place, his own life, and he didn't ask for any of this, but that doesn't mean Spencer had actually used his damn brain to realize any of this beforehand, and it's kind of a shock. He feels numb, even after he makes himself get off the bed and carefully separate the last of the dirty clothes on the floor.

He feels like crying as he shoves his own clothes into his suitcase and carefully folds Brendon's, stacking them inside the open suitcase on Brendon's bed. Brendon's unused bed, for weeks now, because why did he need it when he had Spencer's bed? Spencer sits down between their suitcases, staring across at their-- at his bed, unmade and messy and smelling like Brendon, smelling like them. Spencer gets up stiffly and walks over to his bed, carefully stripping the pillowcase from Brendon's pillow and folding it neatly. He very determinedly does not think about what a pathetic creeper he's being as he slides it into the front pocket of his suitcase, but he can't-- he needs something.

Spencer takes a deep breath when he hears Ryan start arguing about first come, first served, and steels himself as he heads downstairs and into the kitchen with his eyes downcast. He takes his seat beside Brendon wordlessly and eats half of the Pop-Tart Brendon holds out in one bite. Spencer's so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn't realize Brendon's saying something until Brendon snaps his fingers in front of Spencer's face, sharp and sudden. "Spence. Are you listening at all? I want to stop by Shane's on the way home and drop my guitar off, but I'm going to do laundry at your place, is that cool? I'll do yours too if you're nice to me."

"I think I want to steal the curtains from my room," Ryan says, talking over Brendon.

"No one stole anything," Spencer says quickly, panicked, before he processes exactly what Ryan had said. Then he processes what Brendon had said, and whips his head up. "Wait, what?" Spencer says.

"I like the aesthetic," Ryan continues as he tries to slide Brendon's Pop-Tart off his plate.

"Not the curtains, those curtains are god awful ugly, and I'm pretty sure someone would notice if they were gone, now shut up," Spencer says, turning back to Brendon. "I-- what?" Spencer asks dazedly. "You're coming home with me?"

"Do you really want to go to my place?" Brendon asks, sliding his plate away from Ryan's grabbing hands. "Regan's usually there and the walls are really thin. Trust me."

"And you're loud, Spencer," Ryan says, making an abortive grab for Brendon's Pop-Tart again. "But really, those curtains aren't ugly, they're distinctive."

"Like, really loud," Jon adds without looking up from his cup of coffee. "And Ryan, those curtains are distinctively ugly."

"Hey," Spencer says, vaguely offended but mostly incredibly fucking relieved.

"Right?" Ryan says.

"Not the curtains, idiot," Spencer says, rolling his eyes at Ryan.

"Spencer, I love you," Brendon says, still blatantly ignoring Ryan, "but you really are fucking loud."

Brendon shoves the last of his Pop-Tart in his mouth and turns around to chew it obnoxiously in Ryan's face. Spencer smiles softly to himself as Brendon's bare foot tangles with his under the table, toes rubbing at his ankles. Besides, they're right. He is pretty loud. It's the reason Spencer had the foresight to buy a place without any immediate neighbors.

-

"Jesus," Brendon says, panting a little when he finishes pushing Spencer's drum case to the back of the Uhaul. "That shit was heavy."

"That's why I told you to let me do it," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and catching Brendon around the waist when he trips over a strap.

"I'm kind of going to miss this place," Brendon says, not bothering to move from Spencer's arms, just twisting around a little until he's more comfortable.

"The Uhaul?" Spencer says, even though he knows exactly what Brendon means. "Because we haven't exactly made any memories here, but there's still time," Spencer says, waggling his eyebrows at Brendon.

"Can you imagine Ryan's face if we got come on his guitar case?" Brendon says with a snort.

"Me too, though," Spencer says after a minute, leaning down to kiss the side of Brendon's cheek. "I'm going to miss it here, I mean. Not the Uhaul. The cabin."

"Yeah, I got you about three clarifications ago," Brendon says, leaning up and kissing Spencer softly.

"It's just going to be weird. Going back to, like, civilization. And touring. And being a band. And oh god, the bus. The bunks," Spencer says in dismay.

"Hey," Brendon says quietly, rubbing his thumbs against Spencer's waist. "First of all, I'm bendy. You'd be surprised. Also, I bet we could get Ryan to bankroll a second bus out of pocket by threatening to have sex all over the place."

"No," Ryan says, peering around the corner of the Uhaul. "No you could not, and if you two are done having a moment, Jon's standing here with an amp and it looks really heavy."

"By all means," Brendon says, pressing himself closer to Spencer with a grin so Jon can haul the amp up.

"We have too much shit," Ryan says as he watches Spencer and Jon haul the last of the amps to the back.

"I am not the one who brought my own duvet," Brendon reminds Ryan.

"That duvet is fluffy," Ryan says. "It's easily packed into small places."

"It doesn't change the fact that you brought a duvet."

"The more you say that," Jon says, grunting as he pushes a trunk out of the way, "the less sounds it like a real word."

"It's like paste," Ryan says. "Paste is the same way."

Brendon snickers as he tries to lift one of the bigger keyboards and reposition it, but Spencer grabs it from him before Brendon can get very far, pushing it to the side so it won't move around. Brendon gives Spencer a look, but Spencer ignores him. Whatever, what's the point of having werewolf strength if he never uses it?

"You know, I'm not sure if I trust Ryan to drive after all. Jon, you should drive," Spencer says after a minute of Ryan repeating the word "paste" to himself over and over again.

Jon holds up his hands. "No way, man. I called shotgun."

"Wait, what?" Ryan says, standing up straight and pushing his giant sunglasses up to the top of his head. "No. No way, they are not sitting together. They cannot have sex in the car while I'm driving."

"So it's okay while I'm driving?" Jon asks, mock offended, but Spencer can hear the smile in his voice.

"No! It's never okay! You seriously cannot have sex in the car," Ryan says, turning to glare at Brendon accusingly.

"We don't need to, Ross, we already did it in your bed," Brendon says, fist-bumping Jon before heading back inside to grab the last of the equipment.

"... He's kidding, right?" Ryan asks as soon as Brendon's inside. "Spencer. Spencer, you wouldn't do that to me, right?"

**Author's Note:**

> taken from live journal.[ read the original work here](https://allfourinches.livejournal.com/8902.html)


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